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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/afootafloatinburOOwilliala 


Afoot  and  Afloat  in  Burma 


Posing   for  the  Camera 

He  does  whatever  the  driver  tells  him  to  do.      He  knows  the 

words  of  command,  like  a  soldier. 

(See  page  67) 


^iiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiitiiiiiiiiiiiiriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiriiiiiiiri{iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiriiniHiiiiu 

I  Afoot  and  Afloat  in  | 
!  Burma 


By  A.  H.  Wiriiams 


I         RFVrEW  AND  HERALD  PUBLISHING  ASSOCIATION         | 
I  Takoma  Park,  Washington,  D.  C.  | 

I  I'K,EKSK1I.I.,   N.  Y.  SOUTH   BKND,    IND.  | 

TiiiiiiniiniiiHMiinHiiiiiiHiiinniiiiHiiiiiniiiiiiiiimmiiimiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiii? 
I'rinfcd  in   V.  .S'.  A. 


Copyright,    1922,   by 
Review  and  Herald  Publishing  Association 


Contents 

An  Introduction  to  Burma 9 

Where  Aung  Baw  Lives  and  How  He  Works   ...  15 

On  the  Road  Through  the  Fields 27 

The  Way  Burmese  Grow  Paddy 41 

Palm  Trees  for  Every  Purpose 57 

Making  Good  Elephants  of  Wild  Ones 67 

Floating  Logs  Down  the  River 75 

The  Way  Your  House  Would  Be  Built 83 

Getting  Food  from  the  Rivers   93 

Buddhist  Boys  in  the  Monasteries 101 

How  Young  Burmans  Make  Merry 113 

By  Canoe  and  Bullock  Cart  Through  the  Floods  .  .  123 

With  Ma  Dwa  at  the  Schoolhouse 145 

Strange  Burmese  Ways  of  Helping  the  Sick 157 

Building  a  Bamboo  House    167 

Canvassing  on  the  River  Launches 177 

Market   Day     189 

Into  the  Shan  Hills  by  Train  and  Caravan 203 

In  Conclusion     215 


1694368 


Full-Page  Illustrations 

Posing  for  the  Camera   2 

Up  the  Beautiful  Salwin  River 6 

Burmese  River  Craft 8 

Water  Bufltaloes  and  a  Native  Plow   14 

A  Burmese  Footbridge    26 

Betel-Nut   Chewing     32 

Planting  Rice   40 

A  Land  of  Elephants,  Palms,  and  Pagodas 56 

Making  Rope  from  Cocoanut  Fiber 62 

Elephant  Moving  Saw  Logs 66 

Log  Raft  on  the  Salwin  River 74 

A  Native  Sawmill   82 

Burmese  Natives  at  Home   88 

Bluffs  Along  the  Salwin  River 92 

Monks  with  Their  Begging  Bowls 100 

Burmese  Festivity    112 

By  Bullock  Cart  in  Burma 122 

Launch  and  Landing  Place,  Kamamaung  Mission  .  .  130 

Chapel,  Kamamaung  Mission 138 

Hulling  Rice  at  Kamamaung  Mission 144 

His  First  Day  in  School    148 

Ready  for  the  Meeting 156 

Superstitious  Burmese    162 

Burmese  House  Thatched  with  Leaves 166 

River  Launches  on  the  Salwin   176 

Cover  of  Our  Burmese  Paper 182 

Market  Day  in  Burma   188 

Karen  Woman  Wearing  Brass  Ornaments 194 

A  Common  Sight  in  Burma 202 

Burmese  Racing  Boats    208 

Map  of  Burma    214 

Missionaries'  Home,  Kamamaung  Mission   220 


Ahuja,  Rangoon 

Burmese  River  Craft 

These  boats  vary  in  size  from  a  small  canoe  to  a  large  boat 

intended   for  carrying   rice   to   the  mills. 

(See  page   124) 


AN    INTRODUCTION    TO    BURMA 

Just  across  the  Bay  of  Bengal  in  India, 
its  next-door  neighbor,  is  Burma.  It  is  very 
different  from  India,  not  only  as  to  the 
general  appearance  of  the  country  itself,  but 
also  as  regards  the  people,  their  manner  of 
living,  and  the  language  spoken.  That  this 
should  be  so  is  really  not  hard  to  under- 
stand. 

Though  joined  by  land  to  India  in  the 
north,  Burma  is  separated  from  that  country 
by  mountain  ranges  which  are  difficult  to 
cross.  This  has  left  the  country  shut  in  and 
isolated  from  earliest  times.  The  pages  of 
Indian  history  are  scarred  by  the  records  of 
Alexander  the  Great  and  other  invaders,  and 
the  country  and  people  have  been  influenced 
greatly  by  these  various  conquerors,  yet 
Burma   has   been   sheltered. 

In  later  times  these  same  protecting 
mountains  have  stood  in  the  way  of  more 
peaceful  invaders,  so  that  Burma  is  still 
without  railway  connection  with  the  outside 


lo      Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

world.  The  only  practical  way  of  reach- 
ing it  at  present  is  by  sea. 

But  Burma's  history  is  by  no  means  a 
record  of  centuries  of  peace;  for  although 
there  are  also  mountains  between  it  and  its 
eastern  neighbors,  China  and  Siam,  these 
are  in  parts  less  forbidding  than  the  barrier 
which  separates  it  from  India. 

So  we  find  mention  of  expeditions  against 
Siam  which  were  very  successful ;  but  it  is 
also  recorded  that  the  conflicts  with  the 
Chinese  were  less  happy  in  their  outcome, 
this  big  neighbor  having  exacted  tribute 
from  Burma  on  more  than  one  occasion. 
Today,  these  past  associations  with  the  East 
are  shown  by  similarities  between  the  peo- 
ples of  Burma  and  their  neighbors  across 
the   Salwin. 

Visitors  from  India,  however,  frequently 
did  come  by  way  of  the  sea;  and  it  was 
in  this  way  that  the  present-day  religion  of 
the  people — Buddhism — was  received.  To- 
day there  are  but  few  believers  in  that  faith 
in  India,  despite  the  fact  that  the  founder 
of  it  was  an  Indian  prince;  but  Burma  is 
strongly  Buddhist. 


An  Introduction  to  Burma  ii 

By  the  same  road,  too,  European  mer- 
chants and  others  came,  even  as  early  as  the 
time  of  Christ;  and  from  them  we  learn  a 
little  of  the  conditions  existing  in  Burma  in 
the  olden  days. 

There  is  abundant  evidence  that  the  peo- 
ple within  Burma  itself,  whoever  they  may 
have  been  and  wherever  they  may  have 
come  from  (both  of  which  facts  are  appar- 
ently hard  to  find  out  exactly) ,  seemed  un- 
able to  live  at  peace  among  themselves.  So 
today,  scattered  about  here  and  there  over 
the  country,  are  to  be  found  the  ruins  of 
ancient  capitals,  reminders  of  bygone  days 
of  splendor,  and  mute  witnesses  of  many  a 
fierce  struggle   between   sections   and   tribes. 

It  seems  to  have  been  a  custom  with 
some  of  these  warring  bands  to  transport 
their  vanquished  foes  to  strange  parts  of  the 
country;  or  perhaps  some  of  the  marauders 
settled  in  new  parts,  abandoning  their  old 
homes;  for  at, the  present  time  we  find  the 
peoples  and  languages  of  the  different  tribes 
scattered  and  mixed  all  over  the  country. 
Thus  the  Burmese,  who  of  themselves  in- 
clude the  remnants  of  formerly  separate  king- 


12      Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

doms;  the  Karens,  with  their  differing  dia- 
lects; the  Talaings,  Taungthus,  Shans,  Chins, 
Kachins,  and  what-not  else,  are  to  be  found 
here  and  there,  one  in  with  the  other.  As 
may  well  be  imagined,  this  condition  of  af- 
fairs by  no  means  simplifies  the  task  of  the 
missionary,  who,  in  his  endeavor  to  uplift 
the  people,  seeks  to  acquaint  himself  thor- 
oughly with  their  speech  and  customs.  In- 
cidentally it  means  that  the  descriptions  given 
in  these  pages,  of  people  and  things  as  they 
are  in  one  part  of  the  country,  do  not  neces- 
sarily apply  to  all  other  parts  of  the  same 
land. 

The  people  of  Burma  are  principally 
farmers,  and  large  towns  are  few  and  far 
between.  Such  as  there  are  show  the  foreign 
impress  in  an  ever-increasing  degree.  Ran- 
goon, the  capital  city,  seems  to  provide  lodg- 
ment for  people  from  nearly  every  nation 
under  the  sun;  which  is  not  surprising  when 
one  considers  the  wealth  of  the  country,  and 
the  general  willingness  of  the  Burman  to 
employ  another  to  do  the  hard  work. 

In  the  first  place,  the  mighty  Irrawaddy, 
with  its  hundreds  of  miles  of  navigable  wa- 


An  Introduction  to  Burma  13 

ters,  reaching  right  up  through  the  very  cen- 
ter of  the  country,  secured  for  Rangoon  its 
pre-eminence;  then  the  railway  crowned  the 
natural  advantages  of  the  capital  by  focus- 
ing on  it  all  other  routes  of  Burma's  trade;, 
and  later  a  well-developed  harbor  has  invited 
the  shipping  of  the  world  to  come  and  re- 
ceive the  treasures  of  the  province;  and  the 
combination  of  these  influences  has  resulted 
in  the  city's  being  a  cosmopolitan  place. 

It  seems  but  natural,  then,  that  in  endeav- 
oring to  convey  a  little  idea  of  what  the  real 
people  of  Burma  are  like,  one  should  turn 
his  attention  almost  entirely  to  the  village 
people  rather  than  to  those  in  the  towns. 

This  little  book  makes  no  particular  pre- 
tense of  treating  Burma  as  a  whole,  but  ra- 
ther is  it  just  a  small  collection  of  stories 
—  odds  and  ends  that  I  have  noticed  in  my 
varied  wanderings.  An  endeavor  has  been 
made  to  write  them  in  a  style  and  language 
suited  to  Juniors.  If  this  book  serves  to 
arouse  or  increase  the  interest  of  any  in  this 
pleasant  land,  its  purpose  will  have  been 
accomplished. 


Where  Aung  Baw  Lives  19 

Buffalo  milk  is  very  rich  in  cream,  and 
quite  a  number  of  the  cows  are  kept  for  the 
good  milk  they  give.  The  buffalo  calves  are 
ugly  little  fellows,  and  go  tumbling  along 
after  their  mother,  making  a  great  deal  of 
noise. 

Aung  Baw's  crude  plowing  easily  breaks 
the  soft  earth,  but  does  not  go  very  deep. 
It  is  a  good  thing  that  he  is  barefooted,  or 
he  would  have  a  hard  task  cleaning  the  mud 
off  after  the  day's  work  is  over.  A  little 
water  will  soon  wash  his  feet  and  legs  clean 
when  he  gets  home  in  the  evening. 

After  he  has  finished  his  plowing,  Aung 
Baw  levels  the  ground  again  by  hitching 
some  sort  of  rough  wooden  roller  to  the  oxen, 
which  drag  it  up  and  down  the  fields.  This 
is  very  necessary,  as  the  rain  must  be  kept 
from  draining  away,  for  rice  grows  best 
when  standing  in  water. 

Where  the  land  is  especially  low  lying, 
and  is  flooded  several  feet  deep  during  -the 
rains,  the  rice  is  transplanted  late  in  the 
season,  after  the  water  has  begun  to  go  down. 
But  in  most  places  the  work  is  done  while 
the   rains   are   still   falling,   the  extra'  water 


20      Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

being    drained    away    by    little    ditches    dug 
for  that  purpose. 

It  will   yet   be   some   days   before   Aung 
Baw  will  put  in  his  rice  plants.     He  is  very 


|V  ''. 

"^MMMM^I 

■>lM3^g?.,ji^,       1^ 

A  i''.-. 

A  Karen  \'illage 

fortunate  in  that  his  field  is  quite  near  his 
house.  Many  of  these  village  people  farm 
land  miles  from  their  homes;  so  during  the 
rice  season  they  build  a  rough  shanty  near 
the  field,  where  the  men  and  boys  can  stay 
till  the  plowing  and  planting  are  finished. 
Perhaps  after  that  the  boys  will  take  turns 
in   staying   there   till    the    crop    is    ready   to 


Where  Aung  Baw  Lives  21 

harvest,  when  all  must  again  busy  themselves 
in   gathering   in   the   grain. 

Aung  Baw's  house  is  in  a  small  village 
called  Kaw-ma-ra,  which  means  "  in  front 
of  the  hill."  Over  there  about  a  mile  away, 
you  can  see  the  hill  rising  abruptly  from  the 
fields.  Look  carefully,  and  you  will  see  a 
pagoda  upon  the  top.  One  wonders  how  the 
men  ever  carried  up  the  materials  to  build 
it;  but  there  it  is,  just  like  thousands  of  others 
in  Burma.  It  reminds  us  of  the  Bible  pas- 
sage about  the  heathen  places  of  worship 
being  on  every  high  hill  and  under  every 
green  tree. 

There  are  many  little  villages  like  Kaw- 
ma-ra  scattered  about  over  this  country. 
Wherever  you  see  a  clump  of  trees,  except, 
perhaps,  close  to  the  foot  of  the  hills,  you 
may  be  sure  there  is  a  village,  though  pos- 
sibly it  may  have  only  eight  or  ten  houses. 
In  between  are  the  fields,  quite  bare  of  trees. 
During  the  rains  they  are  a  beautiful  sea  of 
green,  with  the  flourishing  rice  crops;  in  the 
dry  weather,  just  a  bare  brown  stretch,  the 
low  ridges  between  the  little  plots  being  all 
there  is  to  break  the  monotony. 


22      Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

Here  and  there  a  bullock  cart  may  be 
seen,  perhaps  laden  with  merrymakers  going 
to  a  feast.  As  it  bumps  along  over  the  fields, 
it  raises  a  cloud  of  dust,  for  there  are  no 
regular  roads  here,  and  they  do  not  seem 
to  need  them  in  this  land  of  the  simple  life. 

Aung  Baw  has  been  settled  in  this  place 
for  several  years,  so  his  house  is  inclosed  in 
a  high  bamboo  hedge,  so  thick  that  one  can 
hardly  see  the  building  from  the  outside. 
The  gateway  is  a  narrow  gap  in  the  hedge, 
which  can  be  closed  by  just  sliding  some 
thin  bamboos  through  two  gateposts,  which 
have  holes  in  them  for  the  purpose. 

In  these  villages  the  people  do  not  seem 
to  fear  that  any  one  will  interfere  much  with 
their  property.  I  once  saw  what  will  seem 
to  you  like  a  very  strange  sight.  As  I  was 
walking  over  the  fields,  I  noticed  a  number 
of  planks  tied  high  up  in  the  fork  of  a  tree. 
Evidently  some  man  had  had  to  leave  his 
home  for  a  time,  so  had  pulled  it  down;  and 
to  keep  the  materials  together,  he  had  tied 
them  up  in  the  tree.  There  the  wood  was, 
with  nobody  at  all  to  watch  it,  a  mile  or 
more  from  any  village  or  other  house,  but 


Where  Aung  Baw  Lives  23 

apparently  quite  safe.  Just  fancy  pulling 
your  house  down  when  you  wanted  to  go 
away,  and  then  leaving  the  wood  tied  up  in 
a  tree  for  months  until  you  came  back!  Of 
course,  their  houses  are  often  poor  little 
structures,  that  do  not  require  much  time 
to  build. 

Inside  Aung  Baw's  hedge  you  can  see 
the  cocoanut  palms  and  banana  plants  he  has 
growing.  In  these  parts  the  villagers  plant 
a  few  cocoanuts  as  soon  as  they  settle  in  a 
place ;  so,  in  a  way,  one  can  tell  by  the  palms 
if  a  village  is  old,  or  only  recently  built. 
These  of  Aung  Baw's  must  be  about  twenty 
years  old,  as  they  have  been  bearing  nuts  for 
some  time.  The  banana  plants  grow  much 
more  quickly,  and  once  a  plant  has  borne  a 
bunch  of  fruit,  it  is  cut  down,  five  or  six 
others  springing  up  to  take  its  place.  These 
bear  fruit  better  if  they  are  separated  and 
transplanted;  but  if  left  alone,  they  make 
quite  a  thick  clump  of  plants. 

Like  most  houses  in  this  part,  Aung  Baw's 
is  built  of  wood  and  high  up  on  posts,  the 
floor  being  six  or  seven  feet  above  the 
ground.    This  makes  a  place  underneath  for 


24      Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

the  rice  mill  and  the  hand  loom,  as  well  as 
for  the  ducks.  If  chickens  are  kept,  they 
usually  roost  up  in  the  bamboo  and  other 
trees.  Often  the  big  basket  for  storing  the 
household  supply  of  rice  and  cocoanuts  is 
under  the  house,  too;  but  Aung  Baw  has 
built  himself  quite,  a  strong  house,  and  has 
his  storeroom  upstairs.  The  well  is  just  a 
square  hole,  perhaps  twenty  feet  deep,  with 
the  edge  lined  with  heavy  logs,  sunken 
level  with  the  ground,  to  prevent  any  caving 
in  around  the  top. 

They  have  a  clever  arrangement  for  draw- 
ing the  water.  These  village  people  do  not 
have  much  money,  and  cannot  afiford  to 
buy  iron  pails  and  ropes,  so  the  wonderful 
bamboo   is  brought   into   use. 

While  many  bamboos  are  slender,  others 
grow  to  be  seven  or  eight  inches  thick  and 
are  hollow.  About  every  fifteen  inches  along 
the  length,  the  bamboo  has  a  notch  showing 
on  the  outside;  and  at  these  points  it  is 
solid  right  through.  So  by  cutting  across 
the  bamboo  just  below  two  notches,  a  nice 
pail  about  six  inches  across  and  twelve 
inches   deep,    inside,    is    made.      Aung    Baw 


Where  Aung  Baw  Lives  25 

has  sawed  off  a  piece  of  one  of  these  large 
bamboos,  and  there  is  his  pail  all  ready  for 
use! 

Across  the  mouth  of  the  pail  is  a  string  of 
cocoanut  fiber.  Now  it  is  lowered  into  the 
well.  For  this  purpose  a  long,  thin  bamboo, 
perhaps  less  than  one  inch  thick,  is  chosen; 
and  you  will  see  that  all  the  side  branches 
have  been  carefully  trimmed  off,  except 
about  two  inches  of  one  right  at  the  thick 
end.  This  makes  a  very  fine  natural  hook 
on  which  the  pail  is  swung;  and  away  it  goes 
down  into  the  well.  If  you  should  try  to 
fill  the  pail,  you  would  probably  let  it  slip 
off  the  hook;  but  then,  you  have  not  had 
so  much  practice  as  Aung  Baw  and  his 
people. 


ON    THE    ROAD    THROUGH    THE 
FIELDS 

A   Half-Mile   Footbridge  —  Betel-Nut   Chewing  —  The 
Fooh'sh  Taungthu  —  Mud  Kettles 

Come  along,  let  us  go  right  through 
Myaingalay  village,  climb  the  stile  at  the 
beginning  of  the  village  street,  and  on  past 
the  headman's  house.  The  Burmese  call  the 
headman  the  thugyi,  or  "  big  person,"  for 
he  has  a  good  deal  of  authority  in  the  com- 
munity. At  the  monastery  the  road  winds 
somewhat.  Over  on  the  left  there  is  a  wide 
stretch  of  rice  fields,  with  the  cocoanut  palms 
of  another  village  in  the  background. 

Look  at  that  bridge;  it  must  be  nearly 
half  a  mile  long.  The  village  people  have 
all  worked  together  to  build  it,  so  as  to 
provide  a  footpath  for  everybody  during  the 
rainy  season;,  and  the  government  has  helped 
by  allowing  them  to  cut  the  trees  they  needed, 
without  paying  any  tax.  When  we  come  to 
talk  about  the  sawyers,  I  will  tell  you  more 
about  that  tax. 


28      Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

This  village  on  the  other  side  of  the 
monastery  looks  different,  because  the  peo- 
ple at  one  end  are  Taungthus  and  Talaings, 
and  at  the  other  end  they  are  mostly  Pwo 
Karens.  These  two  tribes  build  their  houses 
differently. 

The  houses  that  we  first  saw  were  mostly 
built  quite  low  down,  with  the  floor  in  the 
front  part  just  about  eighteen  inches  above 
the  ground,  while  the  back  part  of  the  house, 
which  is  the  bedroom,  is  a  good  deal  higher 
and  is  reached  by  climbing  a  few  steps.  This 
is  the  regular  Burmese  style.  But  the  Karen 
houses  are  generally  high  up,  with  the  whole 
floor  six  or  seven  feet  from  the  ground,  like 
Aung  Baw's. 

Here  we  are  at  the  little  stream  crossed 
by  a  village  bridge.  Two  or  three  tree  trunks 
have  been  laid  down,  one  after  the  other, 
and  supported  by  rough  posts  driven  into  the 
bed  of  the  stream.  This  bridge  has  a  hand- 
rail, although  many  of  the  longer  ones  do 
not  have  any  railing  at  all. 

Now  we  are  out  on  the  government  cart 
road.  The  villagers  are  used  to  walking  in 
their  bare  feet,  and  so  do  not  mind  a  little 


Through  the  Fields  29 

mud.  The  little  footpath  through  the  wood 
at  this  end  is  not  very  well  kept  up,  except 
that  the  brushwood  is  not  allowed  to  over- 
grow it.  Burma  does  not  have  very  good 
roads.  After  about  a  mile  this  one  seems 
to  run  right  into  the  river.  That  is  because 
it  was  made  so  that  the  people  might  reach 
the  ferrying  place  from  the  town  on  the 
other  side   of  the    Salwin. 

Down  at  the  water's  edge  we  can  sit  in 
the  little  tea  shop.  It  is  roughly  built,  made 
of  bamboo,  with  a  roof  of  cocoanut  leaves. 
There  is  not  much  use  of  making  it  better, 
for  the  river  rises  during  the  rainy  season 
and  sweeps  it  away.  So  a  new  house  is  built 
every  year. 

While  we  are  waiting  for  the  canoe,  we 
can  watch  the  people  as  they  go  by.  Here 
comes  an  old  Karen.  His  loongyee,  or  shirt, 
is  tucked  up,  his  sturdy  thighs  are  bare,  so 
that  you  can  see  the  tattoo  marks.  In  Burma 
it  is  the  general  custom  for  the  men  to  be 
tattooed  from  the  waist  down  to  the  knees. 
The  pattern  is  so  close  that  the  whole  skin 
looks  blue.  When  a  young  man  is  being 
tattooed,    he    is    given    something    to    drink 


30     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

which  deadens  the  pain,  for  it  is  a  most 
painful  process.  Some  of  the  tribes  in 
Burma  tattoo  the  faces-  of  all  the  women. 
They  say  they  do  this  because  the  women 
are  so  good-looking,  and  they  don't  want  the 
neighboring   tribes   to   steal   their   women. 

The  old  man  has  the  usual  Karen  bag 
slung  over  his  shoulder.  It  looks  like  a 
schoolboy's  bag.  These  bags  are  very  con- 
venient for  carrying  the  odds  and  ends  bought 
at  the  market.  The  villagers  carry  their  betel 
boxes  and  tobacco  pipes  in  them,  too. 

Over  his  head  he  has  a  paper  umbrella, 
which  is  really  very  good  indeed.  The  paper 
has  been  treated  with  a  certain  oil,  and  keeps 
out  the  rain  quite  well.  In  some  parts  of 
Burma  they  make  very  dainty  parasols,  the 
paper  being  painted  in  pretty  designs,  and 
the  other  parts  finished  off  neatly. 

As  soon  as  he  sits  down,  the  old  Karen 
brings  out  his  betel  box.  It  is  made  of 
lacquer  ware;  that  is,  of  bamboo  strips 
plaited  closely  together  into  the  required 
shape.  This  is  plastered  over  to  fill  up  all 
the  cracks,  varnished,  and  colored  in  neat 
designs. 


Through  the  Fields  33 

his  hands  and  sank  in  the  river.  The  man 
dived  for  it,  but  could  not  find  it.  Again 
and  again  he  tried.  Being  still  very  anxious 
to  get  it,  he  cut  a  notch  on  the  side  of  his 
boat  to  show  where  the  tray  had  slipped 
over;  and  then,  ever  after  that,  when  he  was 
in  his  boat  and  had  the  time,  he  would  dive 
in  opposite  the  notch,  no  matter  where  the 
boat  was.  The  Burmese  say  that  he  thought 
to  find  the  tray  at  the  bottom  of  the  river  in 
that  place. 

Sitting  on  the  floor  of  the  tea  house  we 
can  chat  with  the  keeper.  He  doesn't  worry 
at  all,  even  though  we  do  not  buy  anything. 
He  knows  that  we  will  ask  for  what  we  want. 
See  the  kettle  made  of  baked  mud.  The 
village  folks  know  how  to  make  almost  any 
object  out  of  just  such  simple  things  as  mud! 

The  ferry  is  a  long  time  coming,  so  we 
shout  across  the  river,  ''Hat,  kadoef  "  Here 
he  comes  with  his  canoe.  We'll  have  to  be 
careful  going  down  the  bank,  for  the  muddy 
steps  are  only  roughly  made,  and  very 
slippery. 

Look  out  as  you  step  into  the  canoe,  or 
you  will  topple  over.  I  did  one  day,  for  the 
3 


34      Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

boat  started  to  wabble  as  soon  as  I  stepped 
into  it,  and  over  I  went  into  the  water! 
There  are  a  number  of  the  paddles  lying 
ready,  one  for  you  to  use  to  help  the  ferry- 
man across.  Some  one  would  better  bail  the 
water  out  of  this  canoe,  else  our  boots  will 
get  full.  Here  is  the  dipper,  made  out  of 
bamboo. 

When  we  reach  the  other  side,  the  ferry- 
man collects  his  fares  of  one  anna  apiece. 
(One  anna  equals  two  cents.)  The  fare 
varies  according  to  the  width  of  the  river, 
for  in  some  places  where  the  stream  is  a 
narrow  one,  the  fare  is  only  a  quarter  of  an 
anna. 

We  take  the  road  up  past  the  blacksmiths' 
quarter.  It  is  the  usual  thing  in  Burmese 
towns  for  the  people  of  the  same  trade  to 
live  close  together.  Part  of  the  town  is 
called  after  the  particular  trade  followed 
there.  There  is  the  umbrella  quarter,  black- 
smith quarter,  and  so  on.  These  blacksmiths 
are  busy  making  dahs,  which  are  the  long 
knives  the  Burmese  make  so  much  use  of. 
When  we  see  some  men  building  a  house, 
we  shall   know  how  useful   these   dahs   are. 


Through  the  Fields  35 

Suppose  we  stop  at  the  post  office  to  see  if 
there  are  any  letters  for  us.  In  our  village 
we  have  only  one  delivery  a  week,  so  our 
letters  stay  here  in  the  post  office  until  our 
day  comes  round,  or  we  call  for  them. 

Now  we  must  hurry,  for  it  is  quite  a  long 
walk  to  Aung  Baw's  house. 

The  first  time  I  went  this  way  I  had  an 
interesting  time  finding  my  way  around.  I 
had  been  asked  to  go  and  visit  a  man  who 
lives  a  mile  or  so  farther  on  than  Aung 
Baw,  but  nobody  seemed  just  sure  of  the 
way  to  get  there.  I  decided  to  ask  the  post- 
master as  to  when  the  mail  runner  would  be 
going  out  that  way,  so  that  I  might  go  with 
him  and  thus  find  my  friend.  When  I  was 
walking  through  the  town  to  the  post  office, 
I  happened  to  meet  a  man  with  whom  I  had 
made  friends  the  day  before,  and  as  every- 
body does  in  these  parts,  he  greeted  me  with 
the  question,  "  Beh  thwa  m'lay,  saya? " 
(Where  are  you   going?) 

I  told  him  as  best  I  could;  and  then  he 
asked  if  I  knew  the  way.  I  had  to  confess 
that  I  did  not.  To  my  great  surprise  and 
relief  he  told  me  the  man  I  was  seeking  was 


36      Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

his  uncle,  and  that  if  I  would  come  over  to 
his  house,  I  should  find  a  man  there  who 
was  going  out  to  that  very  village  that  morn- 
ing, and  I  could  go  with  him.  Of  course, 
I  needed  no  second  invitation.  It  might  have 
been  some  days  before  the  postman  would 
have  been  going,  and  he  might  not  have  been 
sure  of  my  friend's  house. 

Many  times  as  I  have  thought  over  this 
incident,  it  has  seemed  to  me  to  be  like  the 
way  the  two  disciples  found  the  upper  room 
to  which  Jesus  had  sent  them,  to  prepare  it 
for  the  last  supper;  for  when  they  came  to 
the  city,  they  met  a  man  carrying  a  pitcher 
of  water,  who  took  them  to  the  very  house 
to  which  the  Master  had  told  them  to  go. 
And  so  this  man,  whom  I  had  never  before 
seen,  took  me  just  where  I  wanted  to  go ;  and 
as  this  story  proceeds,  you  will  surely  agree 
that  without  a  guide  like  that,  I  should  have 
had  a  most  difficult  time  to  find  the  way  to 
the  house  of  my  friend. 

We  go  out  past  the  burying  ground.  That 
shelter  over  there  is  for  the  convenience  of 
funeral  parties,  for  often  they  invite  a  num- 
ber of  monks  to  the  burying,  and  give  them 


Through  the  Fields  37 

presents.  The  monks  sit  on  the  floor  of  this 
place,  while  the  gifts  are  being  offered. 

Out  through  the  rice  fields  we  go,  through 
the  mud  and  water,  following  the  ridges  as 
best  we  can.  We  slide  and  slop  along 
through  the  mud,  and  when  we  reach  the 
village  we  find  that  the  path  is  not  much 
better;  for  under  the  overhanging  bamboos 
it  does  not  get  a  chance  to  dry,  from  the 
beginning  of  the  rains  to  the  end. 

It  is  now  beginning  to  rain  quite  heavily, 
so  if  you  like  we  will  just  step  into  this 
house  and  take  shelter  till  the  worst  is  over. 
The  people  are  desirous  that  we  come  in  for 
a  rest  and  sit  down  and  make  ourselves  at 
home.  Their  houses  generally  are  poor  and 
often  not  very  clean,  but  their  friendliness 
makes  up  for  everything  else.  Somewhere  in 
this  village  I  met  a  poor  old  blind  man,  who 
was  made  very  happy  by  the  gospel  story  of 
the  new  earth  where  the  blind  shall  have 
their  sight  restored. 

This  is  the  long  bridge  I  told  you  we 
should  have  to  cross.  It  is  about  two  thirds 
of  a  mile  long.  It  is  always  marshy  here,  so 
even  in  the  dry  season  we  should  have  to  go 


38      Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

some  miles  around  if  the  bridge  were  not 
provided.  Walk  straight  ahead,  and  you  will 
soon  get  used  to  it.  Most  of  the  way  there 
is  a  good  stout  plank  about  eight  inches  wide. 

Some  one  is  coming  from  the  other  end, 
so  we  will  wait  here  at  the  trestle  upon 
which  the  planks  rest.  The  man  will  easily 
pass  us,  even  though  he  is  carrying  two  big 
baskets  slung  on  a  pole. 

Near  the  end  of  the  bridge  we  shall  have 
to  be  very  careful.  A  few  of  the  planks  have 
evidently  given  way,  and  somebody  has  re- 
placed them  with  stout  bamboos;  but  they  are 
round  and  slippery.  We'll  put  our  feet  on 
sideways  and  walk  slowly,  until  we  are  over. 
In  some  places  whole  bridges  are  like  that. 

Just  before  reaching  Aung  Baw's,  we  find 
ourselves  right  below  a  pagoda  which  is 
perched  up  on  the  summit  of  a  hill.  In  the 
dry  season  there  is  a  festival  there.  At  that 
time  some  thousands  of  people  visit  it.  They 
dance   in  groups  on  these  very  fields. 

One  time  I  saw  another  interesting  thing 
at  this  place.  Men  were  casting  a  great  bell 
for  use  on  some  religious  building.  They 
had  made  the  mold  in  the  ground,  and  had 


Through  the  Fields  39 

built  a  furnace  near  by,  so  that  they  could 
melt  the  brass  and  run  it  straight  into  the 
mold  without  difficulty. 

On  the  pagoda  there  are  large  brass  bells 
which  have  been  cast  in  this  crude  way.  It 
may  be  that  a  large  number  of  people  will 
club  together  and  each  give  so  much  weight 
of  metal  for  such  a  purpose,  as  the  chil- 
dren of  Israel  did  for  the  making  of  the 
golden  calf  at  the  foot  of  Mt.  Sinai;  and 
then  all  are  supposed  to  share  in  the  merit 
which   comes   from   doing   this   pious   act. 

After  our  long  and  muddy  walk,  Aung 
Baw's  hedge  looks  quite  cheerful;  and  now 
that  we  can  see  it,  it  will  not  be  long  until 
we  are  comfortably  settled  in  his  house  for 
the  night. 


THE  WAY  BURMESE  GROW  PADDY 

Making  Thanaka  —  Names  of  Burmese  Letters  —  In  a 
Burmese  School  —  Planting  and  Guarding  Rice  Fields 

"  Tek  like  bah,  saya,"  is  the  way  Aung 
Baw's  folks  tell  us  to  climb  to  the  veranda 
of  their  house.  Up  the  bamboo  ladder  we 
go,  and  settle  ourselves  on  the  floor,  scaring 
away  the  dog.  He  walks  off  down  the  lad- 
der just  as  easily  as  can  be.  These  village 
dogs  are  not  very  bold,  and  can  do  little  but 
bark,  and  that  generally  from  a  safe  distance. 
While  our  friends  are  busy  preparing  us 
something  to  eat,  we  can  look  around. 

Here  is  a  crossbow,  quite  a  heavy  affair 
in  its  way.  It  is  stretched  by  turning  a 
handle,  so  that  it  can  be  pulled  very  tight 
indeed;  and  then  to  release  the  arrow,  a  little 
trigger  is  pulled,  very  much  like  that  of  a 
gun.  The  Burmese  use  these  very  skilfully. 
With  a  smaller  crossbow  they  shoot  mud 
balls  that  have  been  baked  hard  in  the  sun. 
In  place  of  a  thong  or  string,  these  bows  have 
slender    bamboo    strips.      In    just    the    right 


42      Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

place  a  small  square  patch  is  woven,  on 
which  the  mud  ball   is  held. 

I  tried  to  shoot  with  one  of  these  bows 
one  time,  but  succeeded  only  in  hitting  my 
own  thumb  nail.  The  village  boys  are  very 
clever  in  their  use,  and  can  hit  targets  at  a 
good  distance. 

That  thing  over  in  the  corner  which  looks 
like  a  toy  water  wheel  is  what  Aung  Baw's 
wife  and  daughters  use  when  spinning  thread. 
The  loom  is  downstairs,  and  perhaps  later 
on  we  shall  see  some  of  the  sheets  that  have 
been  woven  on  it.  Nowadays,  with  foreign 
cotton  goods  so  cheap,  there  is  not  so  much 
weaving  done  in  the  villages  as  there  used 
to  be. 

Up  in  the  rafters  you  can  see  the  big 
bamboo  fish  trap,  four  or  five  feet  long,  and 
about  eighteen  inches  across  at  one  end,  the 
other  tapering  to  a  point.  Sometime  we  may 
see  one  of  these  in  use. 

That  flat,  round  stone,  about  a  foot  across, 
is  where  the  women  grind  the  face  paste,  or 
thanaka.  A  small  piece  of  sandalwood  is 
taken,  and  after  the  surface  of  the  stone  has 
been  wet  with  water,  the  wood  is  rubbed  on 


The  Way  Burmese  Grow  Paddy       43 

it,  so  that  gradually  a  fine  paste  is  made. 
This  has  something  of  the  fragrance  of  the 
sandalwood,  and  is  quite  soothing  to  the 
skin  when  prickly  heat  bothers.  Burmese 
ladies  smear  their  faces  with  it.  This  is 
their  face  powder.  They  usually  have  a 
small  supply  of  it  with  them  as  they  travel. 
Just  before  reaching  their  destination,  they 
will  use  it  for  beauty  purposes. 

On  the  outer  veranda  are  the  waterpots. 
Frequently  people  keep  two  or  three  right 
on  the  roadside,  so  that  passers-by  may 
quench  their  thirst.  The  dipper  is  made 
from  a  cocoanut  shell,  the  wooden  handle 
being  passed  through  from  one  side  to  the 
other. 

This  is  called  in  Burmese  a  yay  hmote; 
and  one  of  the  letters  in  the  Burmese  al- 
phabet is  shaped  like  it.  The  Burmese 
schoolboys  call  it  the  dah  yay  hmote.  Nearly 
all  their  letters  have  names  like  that,  one 
being  called  "  horse-bridle  z; "  another, 
''crooked  breasted  ^;''  while  still  another  is 
called  "  p  with  a  hat." 

The  vowels  also  have  names  which  make 
it  easy   to   remember   what   they   look   like. 


44      Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

One  is  called  "  the  big  circle  placed  on," 
which  is  the  same  as  our  letter  "  e ;  "  it  con- 
sists of  a  circle  written  on  top  of  the  letter 
after  which  it  has  to  be  sounded. 


Burmese    Letters    and   Their 
Peculiar  Names 

2)  Water-dipper  "  D  " 

^  Horse  bridle  "  Z  " 

I  Crooked  breasted  "  D  " 

O  "  P  "  with  a  hat 

^S2     The  big  circle  placed  on  (the 
^^^  letter  "K") 


When  the  Burmese  boys  are  learning  to 
read,  they  have  to  pronounce  each  consonant 
with  every  vowel  in  turn,  and  in  this  way  go 
through  all  the  thirty-two  consonants  they 
have.  In  school  we  could  hear  thirty  or 
more  lusty  lungs  crying  out: 


The  Way  Burmese  Grow  Paddy       45 

"  Kah  gyee,  eh   ....  ka 
Kah  gyee,  eh,  chah  ....  kah  (drawn  out 

a  little  long) 
Kah  gyee,  eh,  long  gyee  tin    ....    ke 
Kah  gyee,  eh,  long  gyee  tin  san  kat  .... 

kee," 

and  so  on,  kah  gyee  being  their  letter  "  k;  " 
the  eh  just  a  sound  thrown  in  to  complete 
the  rhythm  of  the  lesson;  then  the  name 
of  the  vowel,  if  there  is  one;  and  last  of 
all,  the  sound  of  the  consonant  with  the 
vowel  joined  on. 

Here  comes  the  bowl  of  steaming  rice, 
with  a  dish  of  eggs,  for  supper.  This  is  dif- 
ferent from  the  kind  you  generally  see  at 
home,  but  the  taste  is  much  the  same.  It 
has  a  slightly  reddish  tint.  Aung  Baw  will 
not  eat  with  us,  because  he  would  regard 
that  as   disrespectful  on  his   part. 

There  is  no  caste  in  Burma  as  there  is 
in  many  parts  of  India.  There,  many  people 
refuse  to  eat  with  others  who  are  not  of  the 
same  caste,  that  is,  who  belong  to  a  different 
class  of  people.  In  India,  should  the  host 
ofifer  us  milk  to  drink,  it  would  not  be 
proper  to  hand  the  cups  back  after  drinking. 


46      Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

Instead  we  are  to  throw  them  out  of  the 
window.  It  would  be  defiling  for  the  host 
to  touch  cups  used  by  those  outside  his  caste. 
Inasmuch  as  the  cups  are  plain  earthenware, 
there  is  usually  no  great  loss  in  throwing 
them  away. 

After  supper  we  have  a  Bible  reading 
with  the  household.  Aung  Baw  reads  Pwo 
Karen,  but  not  Burmese,  although  he  can 
understand  some  of  the  latter  language.  He 
will  read  in  his  language,  and  then  we  will 
read  the  same  verses  in  Burmese,  and  after- 
ward talk  over  the  subject.  All  together,  we 
crouch  down  on  the  floor,  for  the  lamp  is 
just  a  rough  little  tin  affair  with  a  tiny  round 
wick,  and  having  no  chimney,  it  smokes  and 
flickers  in  the  breeze. 

"  Early  to  bed,  early  to  rise ; "  that  is 
the  rule  here.  Very  soon  we  make  ourselves 
comfortable  for  the  night  on  the  nice,  cool 
veranda.  In  this  warm  country  all  we  need 
is  two  hand-woven  bed  covers. 

The  ladder  is  drawn  up  so  that  the  vil- 
lage dogs  cannot  annoy  us.  But  mosquitoes 
hum  around,  so  we  are  glad  for  the  mos- 
quito curtains  in  our  knapsacks. 


The  Way  Burmese  Grow  Paddy       47 

Over  in  the  hedge  the  fireflies  are  like  so 
many  flashing  diamonds.  Perhaps  early  in 
the  morning  we  may  hear  a  deer  barking 
over  at  the  foot  of  the  hill.  It  is  delightfully 
still  and  quiet.  We  shall  have  a  good  night's 
rest,  when  we  get  used  to  sleeping  on  the 
board  floor. 

With  the  first  streaks  of  dawn  all  are 
awake  and  up.  A  wash  at  the  well,  and  all 
are  ready  for  another  bowl  of  rice;  and  then 
away  to  the  fields  to  watch  the  work. 

About  a  month  ago  Aung  Baw  sowed  his 
rice  seed  in  what  is  often  called  the  nursery, 
a  field  where  the  soil  is  extra  good,  and  there 
is  not  too  much  water.  He  had  soaked  the 
seed  in  water  for  two  days  before  sowing,  so 
it  soon  sprang  up ;  and  by  now  it  has  reached 
a  height  of  about  a  foot.  Yesterday  he 
pulled  up  the  young  plants,  and  trimmed  the 
tops  off;  and  today  he  and  his  wife  and 
daughters    are    going   to    replant   them. 

The  soil  in  the  fields  is  now  just  so  much 
soft  mud,  which  is  just  right.  Each  one 
takes  a  short,  light  stick  in  hand.  At  the 
farther  end  of  these  sticks  there  is  a  fork 
where  a  small  branch  leaves  the  main  stem. 


48      Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

Three  or  four  of  the  rice  plants  are  put  in 
this,  and  the  stick  poked  down  into  the  mud, 
and  then  pulled  out  again,  leaving  the  plants 


©  U.  &  U.,  N.  Y. 

An  Oriental  Rice  Farm 

stuck  fast  in  the  ground.  With  a  bunch  of 
rice  plants  in  the  left  hand,  and  the  stick  in 
the  right,  the  workers  go  along  rapidly,  put- 
ting in  a  tuft  every  ten  or  twelve  inches  in 
regular  rows. 


The  Way  Burmese  Grow  Paddy       49 

When  the  rice  is  well  settled  after  the 
transplanting,  the  fields  make  a  very  pretty 
sight  indeed,  with  the  wide  stretches  of  un- 
broken green.  I  shall  never  forget  how  beau- 
tiful the  valley  of  the  Yonzalin  River  ap- 
peared, near  the  town  of  Papun,  when  we 
reached  it  after  a  long  and  somewhat  trying 
journey.  On  either  hand  the  hillsides  rose, 
terraced  after  years  of  patient  labor,  now  all 
clad  in  brilliant  green,  while  down  between, 
the  stream  rushed  by,  just  like  a  thread  of 
silver. 

It  will  take  three  to  five  months  before 
the  rice  will  be  ready  to  harvest,  the  time 
depending  on  the  kind  of  seed  and  the  time 
of  year  when  it  is  planted.  In  the  mean- 
time the  men  will  busy  themselves  with  fish- 
ing and  other  such  work,  apart  from  the 
general  watching  of  their  fields.  They  do  not 
worry  much  about  keeping  the  weeds  cleared 
away,  for  the  water  standing  in  the  fields 
does  that.  The  ridges  around  each  little 
plot  must  be  kept  in  order,  though,  else  the 
water  might  drain  away  and  the  crop  suffer. 

After  the  ears  of  rice  are  formed,  and 
while  they  are  filling,  the  fields  must  be 
4 


50     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

watched  continuously,  or  the  birds  will 
steal  a  good  deal  of  grain.  Here  and  there 
a  small  shelter  is  roughly  built,  from  which 
ropes  are  stretched  out  in  all  directions  over 
the  rice.  A  boy  sitting  in  the  shelter  every 
now  and  then  pulls  the  ropes.  On  the  ropes 
hang  bamboo  clappers  or  bits  of  rag,  and 
the  noise  and  movement  scares  the  birds 
away. 

At  night  there  is  not  much  danger,  for 
the  birds  are  asleep  and  the  cattle  safely 
in  their  pens,  and  the  mangy-looking  dog, 
which  sleeps  on  the  ground,  will  scare  the 
deer  away  with  his  barking,  should  they 
come  along  for  a  feed  of  rice.  The  crows 
and  other  birds  come  early  in  the  morning, 
so  somebody  must  sleep  out  in  the  fields  to 
be  ready  to  watch  as  soon  as  it  is  light. 
During  the  heat  of  the  day,  too,  there  is  not 
much  trouble,  so  the  watchers  have  what  is 
for  them  a  very  happy  time  —  they  can  spend 
most  of  their  hours  just  dozing. 

Parrots,  too,  are  very  destructive  to  the 
rice  crops,  for  they  seem  to  delight  in  pick- 
ing a  little  here  and  a  little  there,  thus  spoil- 
ing a  great  deal  more  than  they  actually  eat, 


The  Way  Burmese  Grow  Paddy       51 

and  they  come  in  big  flocks,  too.  The  little 
bows  and  hard  mud  balls  come  in  very  nicely 
for  this  work  of  watching  the  fields,  for  the 
guards  can  sit  quietly  in  their  shelters  and 
scare  the  birds  a  long  way  off. 

When  the  time  comes  for  the  paddy  to  be 
reaped,  all  the  family  must  get  to  work  and 
gather  in  the  crop.  Many  farmers  hire 
Indian  coolies  to  do  most  of  the  reaping  for 
them,  as  they  much  prefer  to  watch  others 
do  such  back-breaking  work. 

Out  they  go  with  their  little  sickles,  the 
girls  with  their  big  palm-leaf  hats  on  and 
their  cheeks  protected  by  a  cloth,  so  that  they 
do  not  get  sunburned.  It  will  be  noticed 
that  they  cut  so  as  to  leave  quite  a  length  of 
rice  stalk  in  the  ground.  After  the  crop 
has  been  entirely  cleared  away,  this  stubble  is 
fired,  and  the  ashes  form  about  the  only 
fertilizer  the  soil  ever  gets,  unless  the  river 
happens  to  overflow  and  leave  a  fresh  layer 
of  mud  on  the  surface. 

The  rice  is  generally  threshed  out  in  the 
fields,  before  being  carted  away.  A  suitable 
spot  is  cleared  and  leveled  off;  or  maybe 
there    is    a    general    village    threshing    floor 


52      Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

which  all  use  in  turn.  On  this  the  stalks  of 
paddy  are  heaped  high  in  a  circle.  Then  the 
oxen  or  buffaloes  are  driven  slowly  round 
and  round,  till  the  ears  have  all  been  trod- 
den out. 

A  platform  about  ten  feet  high  is  built. 
Squatting  on  this,  a  man  takes  the  baskets  of 
threshed  rice  which  are  passed  up  to  him  by 
another  standing  on  a  platform  halfway  up, 
and  pours  it  out,  so  that  the  wind  may  carry 
off  the  chaff  and  dust,  while  the  grain  falls 
to  the  ground  below. 

Some  of  the  rice  must  be  stored  for  the 
next  year.  Some  must  be  kept  as  seed.  The 
balance  is  sent  off  to  the  town  to  be  sold  to 
the  agents  of  the  rice  mills  or  other  mer- 
chants, the  sale  of  which  brings  in  practically 
the  only  money  many  a  family  sees  for  the 
whole  year.  Sometimes  an  advance  is  made 
on  the  crop  by  a  rice  merchant.  In  that 
case  the  crop  must  be  sold  to  him,  regardless 
of   the   price   that  others   would   pay. 

The  Burmese  sometimes  earn  a  little  cash 
by  keeping  fowls.  Men,  with  great  baskets 
slung  on  poles  carried  over  the  shoulder, 
make    regular    trips    through    the    country. 


The  Way  Burmese  Grow  Paddy       53 

buying  the  hens  and  chickens  and  eggs. 
They  sell  them  in  the  larger  towns.  Some, 
too,  may  have  an  orchard  which  brings  in 
some  money.  With  the  boys  and  girls  going 
to  school  in  town,  some  ready  money  must 
be  on  hand  to  pay  their  fees  and  other  ex- 
penses. 

With  the  threshing  finished,  the  straw  is 
collected  to  be  used  as  cattle  feed.  A  plat- 
form about  a  foot  high  may  be  built,  with  a 
pole  some  ten  or  more  feet  long  placed 
upright  in  the  middle;  the  straw  will  be 
roughly  piled  on  the  platform  and  the  top 
finished  ofif  into  a  loose  thatch.  Throughout 
the  year  the  cattle  are  allowed  to  eat  at  the 
bottom  of  this  stack,  which  slowly  slides 
down  the  central  pole,  till  all  has  been  used. 

If  we  could  follow  the  rice  on  its  journey 
after  the  farmers  have  sold  it,  we  should  find 
it  going  by  boat  or  train  down  to  the  big 
seaports,  where  great  rice  mills  line  the 
river;  from  these,  during  the  busy  season, 
there  flows  a  constant  stream  of  rice  to  all 
parts  of  the  world.  Day  and  night  the  work 
goes  on,  now  that  electric  lights  turn  night 
into  day. 


54      Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

After  the  paddy  has  been  measured  in  the 
mill,  it  is  bought  at  so  much  a  hundred  bas- 
kets, this  being  a  standard  measure.  Next 
it  is  cleaned  and  then  milled,  to  remove  the 
husk.  Finally  it  is  sewed  up  in  sacks.  'All 
is  bustle  and  business  around  the  mills.  Out 
in  the  river  are  rows  and  rows  of  boats  in 
which  the  paddy  has  come,  and  long  lines  of 
coolies  are  working  steadily  unloading  the 
grain,  and  then  reloading  the  filled  sacks. 
The  water  for  some  distance  round  is  brown 
with  floating  husks.  Some  of  this  is  used 
as  fuel  for  the  working  of  the  machinery. 
Even  the  dust  which  is  swept  up  inside  is 
used  as  pig  feed. 

Rice  forms  by  far  the  greater  part  of  the 
exports  of  Burma,  perhaps  two  thirds  of  the 
total.  In  earlier  days  the  river  in  Rangoon 
was  filled  with  sailing  ships  waiting  for  their 
annual  cargoes  of  rice,  afterward  setting  out 
on  their  long  journeys  to  different  parts  of 
the  globe.  It  used  to  take  four  or  five 
months,  and  sometimes  even  longer,  to  reach 
England  from  Burma  by  sailing  ship.  Now 
large,  ocean-going  steamers  have  replaced  the 
old  styles  of  boat. 


The  Way  Burmese  Grow  Paddy       55 

In  Upper  Burma  a  good  deal  of  cotton 
is  now  grown.  Different  fibers  for  rope 
making  and  like  purposes  are  also  cultivated. 
Up  in  the  Shan  Hills  one  sees  potatoes,  and 
the  fields  here  are  worked  in  a  very  peculiar 
way.  After  the  plowing  has  been  completed, 
the  loose  soil  on  the  surface  is  raked  up  into 
little  heaps,  one  every  foot  or  so  across  the 
field.  In  these  heaps  are  mixed  leaves,  grass, 
or  stable  waste.  Afterward  each  one  is  set 
afire,  the  ash  remaining  to  enrich  the  soil. 

In  some  of  the  more  out-of-the-way  parts 
of  the  country  the  people  do  not  steadily 
farm  the  same  land  year  after  year,  but  they 
wander  around,  burning  and  clearing  a  small 
patch  of  forest  here  and  there,  often  on  a 
steep  hillside,  and  after  a  few  crops  have 
been  taken  off,  leave  it  for  a  new  place. 

Rubber  is  now  being  grown  in  Lower 
Burma,  the  heavy  rainfall  there  being  suited 
to  this  tree;  but  much  of  this  work  is  in  the 
hands  of  large  companies,  which  work  per- 
haps thousands  of  acres;  so  we  do  not  find 
the  Burmese  interesting  themselves  in  it  ta 
any  great  extent. 


15     =-5  ^ 


H      c  =o 


a; 

5 


PALM  TREES  FOR  EVERY  PURPOSE 

Chauk-chaw  Candy  —  Ice  Fruit  and  Toddy  Palm  — 
Travelers'  Palm,  with  Its  Cool  Drink 

You  remember  the  cocoanut  palms 
around  Aung  Baw's  house?  The  nuts  as 
they  grow  on  these  palms  look  very  large, 
for  outside  of  what  is  usually  called  the  shell 
there  is  a  coarse,  fibrous  husk,  which  is  about 
two  inches  thick  all  round.  The  valuable 
coir  fiber,  from  which  ropes  and  matting 
are  made,  is  obtained  from  this  husk. 

If  a  nut  is  picked  before  it  is  fully 
formed,  it  is  found  to  be  soft  and  jelly-like 
inside,  and  filled  with  a  sweetish  water  which 
makes  a  very  pleasant  drink  on  a  hot  day. 
But  as  the  nuts  grow  older,  the  meat  be- 
comes firmer,  and  the  water  dries  up  until 
it  is  all  gone.  In  its  place  there  grows  up 
inside  what  is  called  the  flower.  This  is 
really  the  new  plant  which  is  slowly  being 
formed. 

WHen  a  native  wants  to  plant  some  cocoa- 
nuts,  he   takes   a   number  of   nuts,   with   the 


58      Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

outer  husk  on,  just  as  they  are  picked  from 
the  palm.  He  leaves  these  standing  in  a 
corner  of  his  house  for  several  weeks.  In 
due  time  the  leaves  begin  to  sprout  out  of 
the  top,  and  w^hen  these  have  reached  the 
height  of  one  foot,  or  perhaps  two  feet,  the 
nuts  are  put  in  the  ground,  half  buried,  and 
they  take  root. 

It  takes  from  seven  to  twelve  years  for  a 
new  palm  to  bear  its  first  crop  of  nuts,  some 
varieties  being  much  slower  than  others. 
From  that  time  on  there  is  a  steady  supply 
for  many  years.  All  goes  well,  without  any 
further  trouble  of  cultivation,  unless  per- 
chance some  pest,  as  for  instance  a  certain 
form  of  beetle,  attacks  the  palm,  in  which 
case  there  is  every  danger  that  the  whole 
crown  of  the  tree  will  drop  off,  and  the 
palm  die. 

Cocoanuts  grow  to  best  advantage  where 
there  is  plenty  of  rain,  so  one  often  sees  them 
fringing  the  seacoast  in  tropical  countries; 
but  farther  inland,  say  at  a  place  like  Meik- 
tila,  where  we  have  our  school,  they  are  not 
commonly  seen.  It  is  sometimes  said  that  salt 
water  is  necessary  for  their  growth,  this  idea 


Palm  Trees  for  Every  Purpose         59 

perhaps  arising  from  the  fact  that  they  are 
common  near  the  seacoasts;  but  they  can  be 
found  growing  very  well  indeed  a  hundred 
miles  from  the  sea,  provided  there  is  ample 
rainfall. 

Besides  furnishing  the  coir  fiber,  the  co- 
coanut  is  an  important  article  of  food;  for 
when  the  nut  has  been  shredded,  a  rich  oil 
can  be  washed  out  with  water;  and  this 
"  milk "  is  added  to  curries,  or  even  used 
instead  of  water  in  which  to  boil  rice.  Very 
nice  candies  can  also  be  made  with  cocoanut 
milk.  The  Burmese  have  a  candy  called 
chauk-chaw,  which  is  a  stifif  jelly  made  of 
cocoanut  milk  and  gelatin  from  seaweed. 

In  order  to  get  the  fiber  from  the  husk, 
this  has  to  be  soaked  in  water  and  then 
pounded,  either  with  a  hammer  or  in  some 
form  of  machine;  and  the  short  lengths  of 
brown  fiber  so  obtained  are  then  spun  into 
yarn,  from  which  the  familiar  rope  and  other 
articles  are  made. 

A  very  large  number  of  cocoanuts  are 
split  open,  and  the  meat  dried  in  the  sun.  In 
this  form  they  are  exported  to  other  coun- 
tries,  where    the    oil    is    extracted    for   soap 


6o      Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

making  and  various  other  purposes.  This 
form  of  the  nut  is  what  is  called  "  copra," 
and  has  a  rather  rancid  and  sickly  smell 
when  drying.  Sometimes  steam  launches 
carry  nothing  but  cocoanut  shells  for  the  fir- 
ing of  the  boilers. 

The  wood  of  the  cocoanut  palm  is  not 
of  much  use,  being  very  coarse,  and  not  very 
lasting.  Often,  too,  the  trunks  of  the  palms 
are  greatly  bent;  for  as  all  the  branches  and 
nuts  grow  up  at  the  top, —  perhaps  twenty- 
five  or  thirty  feet  from  the  ground,  —  if  there 
is  a  high  wind  there  is  a  very  great  strain  on 
the  tree,  so  much  so  that  whole  plantations 
can  be  seen  with  the  trunks  all  bent  in  one 
direction. 

The  leaves  of  these  trees  are  valuable  to 
the  villagers,  who  use  them  for  the  roofing 
of  their  houses.  The  branches  grow  eight 
or  ten  feet  long,  with  long,  narrow  leaves 
shooting  out  from  both  sides  along  the  whole 
length.  Perhaps  it  might  be  more  correct 
to  regard  the  whole  branch  with  the  side 
leaves  as  one  huge  leaf,  like  a  fern.  The 
people  strip  the  leaves  off  and  fold  the  ends 
over   on   long,   thin   strips   of   bamboo,    and 


Palm  Trees  for  Every  Purpose        6i 

press   and   dry  them   as   they  do   eng  leaves. 

It  is  a  very  interesting  sight  to  watch  the 
men  climbing  the  cocoanut  palms  in  order 
to  get  the  nuts.  As  there  are  no  branches 
until  the  top  is  reached,  it  is  not  easy,  you 
see.  A  very  common  way  of  reaching  the 
top  is  to  use  a  strong  belt  of  rope  or  leather, 
which  is  passed  round  the  tree  trunk  and  the 
climber's  body;  and  as  he  steadily  works 
his  way  up  by  the  strength  of  his  arms  and 
legs,  he  draws  the  belt  up  with  him,  and, 
leaning. his  weight  against  it,  has  his  arms 
free  for  getting  a  fresh  hold  higher  up  for 
another  pull.  ^ 

There  is  another  way,  too,  which  I  have 
seen  used  in  tree  climbing.  This  consists 
in  driving  a  number  of  short  pegs,  one  after 
the  other,  up  opposite  sides  of  the  tree,  like 
the  spikes  in  a  telegraph  pole,  making  a 
series  of  small  steps.  In  time  the  bark 
grows  over  them,  so  that  all  that  is  seen  is 
a  chain  of  convenient  little  bumps,  which 
make  it  easier  for  the  climber.  This  method 
seems  to  be  used  more  particularly  with  a 
certain  tall,  smooth  tree  to  which  bees  much 
resort,  and  which  men,  of  course,  are  anxious 


Making  Rope  from  Cocoanut  Fiber 

Aung  Baw's  wife  and  daughters  use  a  contrivance  like  this 

when   spinning  thread. 

(See  page  42) 


Palm  Trees  for  Every  Purpose        63 

to  climb  in  order  to  secure  the  honey  and 
the  wax. 

Another  fruit-bearing  palm  is  the  pal- 
myra, which  bears  clusters  of  round  nuts 
about  four  or  five  inches  across,  and  in  which 
are  three  or  four  pods  of  colorless  jelly. 
They  are  rather  tasteless,  but  being  juicy  and 
cold,  even  on  the  hottest  day,  they  are  quite 
refreshing.  A  common  name  for  this  fruit 
is  "  ice  fruit." 

Perhaps  more  valuable  than  the  fruit  is 
the  juice  which  is  tapped  off  from  the  top  of 
the  palmyra  tree,  and  from  which  a  very 
pleasant  sugar  can  be  made.  But  a  good 
deal  of  this  juice  is  allowed  to  ferment,  and 
the  drinking  of  it  in  this  condition  causes 
much  harm.  This  is  what  is  commonly 
known  as  "  toddy,"  the  palm  being  often 
called  the  "  toddy  palm."  Toddy  is  also  ob- 
tained from  the  date  palm. 

While  the  cocoanuts  and  palmyra  palms 
flourish  in  districts  where  there  is  plenty  of 
rain,  they  also  grow  well  in  much  drier 
parts.  Unlike  the  cocoanut,  the  palmyra 
wood  is  quite  hard  and  durable,  although 
coarse,  and  so  is  much  used  for  posts  and 


64      Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

rafters.  This  is  very  fortunate  for  the 
village  people,  as  in  dry  sections  of  the 
country  ordinary  trees  do  not  grow  well;  so 
without  the  palmyra  palm,  there  would  not 
be  any  cheap  wood  available  for  house- 
building purposes. 

In  parts  of  India,  too,  the  trunks  of  the 
palms  are  split  down  lengthwise  and  hol- 
lowed out,  making  rough  little  canoes,  which 
the  villagers  use  in  the  season  of  the  year 
when  their  country  is  flooded. 

In  climbing  the  palmyra  tree,  a  ladder  is 
used,  as  where  the  old  branches  have  been 
broken  or  cut  off,  a  stout  stump  is  left,  mak- 
ing ordinary  climbing  out  of   the   question. 

There  is  still  a  third  form  of  palm  tree, 
and  that  is  the  one  called  the  traveler's  palm. 
This  has  large  green  leaves,  very  similar  to 
those  of  the  banana,  which  grow  out  from 
the  top  of  the  trunk  in  the  form  of  a  fan. 
If  you  should  cut  off  a  leaf  from  a  healthy 
tree,  even  on  a  hot  day,  a  large  quantity  of 
clear,  cold  water  would  flow  out,  giving  you 
a  cold  drink.  This  comes  as  a  great  blessing 
to  the  thirsty  traveler.  It  is  from  this  fact 
that  the  name  of  the  tree  is  derived. 


Palm  Trees  for  Every  Purpose        65 

So  you  see  that  in  the  hot  countries,  where 
we  do  not  have  many  of  the  trees  and  pleas- 
ant fruits  of  the  colder  countries,  the  Creator 
has  provided  other  things  which  are  just 
suited  to  the  climate.  These,  when  rightly 
used,  are  a  great  blessing  to  mankind. 


Kamamaung  Mission  Launch,  Salwin  River 


MAKING    GOOD    ELEPHANTS   OF 
WILD  ONES 

Elephants  Go  to  School,  Drag  and  Carry  Logs,  and 
Play  in  the  River  —  How  They  Are  Trapped 

Poor  old  elephant!  He  seems  to  be  stuck 
fast  in  the  mud,  for  he  has  sunk  in  it  almost 
up  to  his  body.  But  no,  he  drags  his  feet 
up  and  slowly  makes  his  way  forward.  What 
was  his  driver  thinking  about  to  let  the  ele- 
phant get  into  such  a  muddy  place?  The 
driver  is  perched  up  there  on  the  elephant's 
back. 

The  tide  in  the  river  has  gone  down, 
and  left  the  big  teak  logs  lying  in  the  mud. 
The  elephant  brings  them  one  by  one  to  the 
sawmill. 

Look!  He  has  reached  one  now.  He 
curls  his  trunk  around  it  and  perches  it  upon 
his  tusks.  He  does  whatever  the  driver  tells 
him  to  do:  He  knows  the  words  of  com- 
mand, like  a  soldier.  It  is  a  big  log,  and 
must  be  very  heavy  indeed;  but  the  elephant 
is  strong,  and  can  pick  it  up  without  any  help. 


68      Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

When  he  has  brought  it  up  into  the  yard, 
his  driver  tells  him  to  put  it  on  the  pile 
of  other  logs.  And  he  obeys.  He  lays  the 
log  down  in  line  with  the  others,  butts  the 
end  of  it  with  his  big  old  head,  so  that 
the  pile  shall  all  be  even,  one  log  with  all 
the  others. 

The  elephant  has  been  taught  in  a  school. 
I  saw  a  young  elephant,  about  ten  years  old, 
having  his  lesson  one  day.  He  was  not 
strong  enough  to  work  with  full-sized  logs; 
so  they  had  a  small  one  for  him  to  practise 
on.  There  was  the  pupil  elephant  doing  just 
what  his  teacher  told  him  to  do.  Sometimes 
he  would  butt  the  log,  and  sometimes  he 
would  kick  it  with  his  foot;  and  then  some- 
times he  would  pick  it  up  with  his  trunk. 
Before  he  could  leave  school  he  would  have 
to  learn  to  kneel  down  when  told  to.  That  is 
part  of  every  well-trained  elephant's  lesson. 
It  is  when  they  kneel  that  people  climb  on 
their  backs.  Some  will  help  lift  the  driver 
up  with  their  trunks.  Like  a  horse,  they 
learn  the  words  that  mean  "  go  ahead,"  or 
"  stop,"  or  anything  else  that  elephants  are 
expected  to   do.     The   driver  does  not  con- 


Good  Elephants  of  Wild  Ones         69 

trol  them  with  a  bit  and  bridle  and  reins; 
he  just  sits  up  on  the  animal's  back  and  tells 
him  what  to  do,  or  pokes  him  with  his  heels 
or  with  a  driving  hook. 

Oftentimes,  instead  of  picking  the  logs 
up  and  carrying  them,  the  elephant  drags 
them  along  the  ground.  They  do  this  in  the 
forests,  where  there  would  not  always  be 
room  for  them  to  carry  logs  on  their  trunks. 
The  men  fix  strong  chains  to  the  end  of  the 
log,  and  these  are  hooked  to  the  elephant's 
harness.  In  this  way  he  drags  the  logs  to 
the  river,  where  they  can  be  floated  down- 
stream to  the  mills. 

In  different  parts  of  India  and  Burma 
elephants  are  used  to  ride  on.  When  the 
roads  are  bad  and  the  country  rough,  this 
is  a  very  pleasant  way  to  travel.  They  are 
also  used  in  parades  and  processions.  On 
such  occasions  the  elephant's  harness  is  orna- 
mented with  gold  and  silver  fittings,  costly 
saddle  cloths  (jhools,  they  call  them  in  In- 
dia) made  of  velvet  and  richly  embroidered. 
'  Wealthy  men  sometimes  hire  elephants  to 
march  in  their  family  wedding  processions, 
while  others  use   them   for  hunting. 


yo     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

You  may  think  the  elephant  has  a  very 
hard  life,  plunging  through  the  mud,  or 
dragging  big  trees  through  the  forest,  and 
doing  other  heavy  work.  But  he  has  his 
playtime  too.  In  the  evening,  down  at  the 
river  bank,  he  plays.  The  big  old  elephants 
like  to  get  into  the  river  for  their  evening 
bath.  They  roll  and  splash  around  like 
schoolboys  out  for  a  romp.  They  fill  their 
trunks  with  water,  and,  holding  them  up 
high,  blow  the  water  out,  making  a  big 
shower  bath  for  themselves.  After  playing 
like  that  for  a  while,  they  solemnly  march 
ofif  to  their  stables,  and  enjoy  their  supper. 

But  not  all  elephants  are  so  tame  and 
obedient  as  these.  There  are  great  numbers 
of  wild  elephants  roaming  about  in  the  forests 
of  India  and  Burma.  Sometimes  they  do  con- 
siderable damage  to  crops  in  the  fields,  and 
occasionally  even  trample  village  people  to 
death. 

To  catch  the  wild  ones,  men  will  place 
somewhere  in  the  forest  where  the  elephants 
roam,  a  very  strong  fence  or  palisade,  mak- 
ing an  inclosure  through  which  the  ele- 
phants cannot  break.    After  the  wild  herd  has 


Good  Elephants  of  Wild  Ones        71 

been  located,  a  number  of  trained  elephants 
are  used  as  decoys,  to  entice  the  wild  ones 
toward  the  palisade.  Men  mounted  on  other 
animals  gradually  drive  the  wild  ones  in  the 
desired  direction.  So  before  long  the  big 
fellows  find  themselves  in  the  inclosure. 
They  are  then  driven  into  a  smaller  yard, 
the  gate  of  which  is  closed.  Men  go  among 
them,  mounted  on  tame  elephants,  and  tie 
them  one  by  one  with  ropes  or  chains.  They 
are  then  dragged  away  and  gradually  trained 
for  useful  service.  But  there  is  great  rushing 
and  crashing  and  yelling  and  bellowing  dur- 
ing the  process  of  training.  This  is  danger- 
ous work,  and  only  experienced  men  try  it. 

You  can  easily  understand  that  if  it  were 
not  for  the  tame  elephants,  it  would  be  very 
difficult  to  catch  and  train  the  wild  ones. 
The  older  fellows  set  a  good  example  to  the 
others,  and  in  this  way  teach  them  their 
lessons. 

Elephants  cost  a  great  deal  of  money, 
often  three  or  four  thousand  dollars  each. 
In  the  forests  in  Burma,  village  men  fre- 
quently join  together  and  buy  one  or  more 
elephants   in   partnership.     Then    they   earn 


72      Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

money  hiring  their  animals  out  to  timber 
traders  who  have  logs  to  be  dragged  down 
to  the  river,  or  to  travelers  who  have  jour- 
neys to  make.  Some  big  timber-trading 
companies  keep  five  hundred  or  more  ele- 
phants. 

These  big  fellows  do  not  all  have  the  same 
coior  of  skin.  Some  are  lighter  than  others. 
These  are  spoken  of  as  white  elephants. 
They  are  very  rare,  and  generally  regarded 
as  sacred.  A  few  years  ago  they  had  one 
at  the  big  Shwe  Dagon  Pagoda  in  Rangoon, 
and  people  came  from  miles  around  to  see 
him.  He  was  only  a  young  fellow,  and  at 
best  but  a  dirty  white  in  color. 

The  harness  for  elephants  has  one  part 
that  is  just  like  a  thick  mattress.  It  is  in- 
tended to  protect  the  animal's  skin  from 
injury.  Perhaps  the  elephants  you  have 
seen  at  the  zoo  look  as  if  they  had  skin  very 
thick  and  tough,  and  as  if  nothing  could 
possibly  hurt  it;  but  really,  the  elephant 
drivers  have  to  take  very  great  care,  for  if 
their  charges  should  be  sick  with  sore  backs, 
it  would  take  one  or  two  years  for  their 
thick  skin  to  heal.     This,  of  course,  would 


Good  Elephants  of  Wild  Ones        73 

mean  much  loss  to  the  owners,  for  elephants 
eat  great  quantities  of  food,  whether  they 
work  or  not. 

Do  you  wonder  what  elephants  eat? 
Well,  they  are  very  fond  of  hay  and  such 
food.  There  are  stories  told  of  some  of  the 
army  elephants  with  which  the  Indian  gov- 
ernment used  to  drag  heavy  guns.  These 
fellows  were  very  fond  of  chupatties,  or 
Indian  unleavened  bread.  This  was  served 
out  to  them  every  day  for  food.  When  each 
animal  received  his  pile  of  flat  cakes,  he  care- 
fully balanced  it  on  the  end  of  his  trunk, 
and  could  tell  at  once  if  he  had  been  slighted. 

Wild  elephants  roam  about  the  jungle, 
feeding  on  the  grasses.  The  tame  ones  are 
often  allowed  to  graze  in  the  same  way, 
although  they  generally  have  a  long  and 
heavy  chain  fixed  to  their  hind  legs  to  keep 
them  from  wandering  away  too  far. 

The  next  time  you  see  some  teak  furniture, 
you  will  remember  the  big  old  elephants  in 
the  forests  of  India  and  Burma,  who  do  so 
much  to  get  the  wood  for  it. 


FLOATING      LOGS      DOWN      THE 
RIVER 

A  Boom  —  Grass  Ropes  —  Rafts  —  Ironwood,   Padauk, 
and  Thabye  —  The  Log  That  Was  Not  a  Log 

After  the  teak  and  other  kinds  of  logs 
have  been  taken  to  the  river,  they  are  branded 
with  the  owner's  name  at  the  end,  and  left 
to  drift  down  the  stream  until  they  are 
stopped  by  a  boom  that  is  stretched  across 
from  one  bank  to  the  other.  At  the  boom, 
the  men  sort  the  logs  and  make  them  into 
rafts.  Then  they  are  ready  to  go  on  farther 
down  to  the  mills. 

To  make  a  boom  the  men  choose  a  place 
where  on  both  sides  of  the  river  large  rocks 
stand  up  high,  like  big  posts.  The  boom 
is  made  of  a  number  of  stout  cane  vines. 

These  canes  are  generally  at  least  an 
inch  thick,  and  often  a  good  deal  more;  and 
they  grow  to  a  height  of  two  or  three  hun- 
dred feet,  overhanging  high  rocks  and  simi- 
lar places.  When  this  cane  dries,  it  is  quite 
hard  and  stiff;  but  after  it  has  been  soaked 


76      Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

in  water,  it  can  be  bent  enough  to  permit  of 
its  being  tied  in  knots  where  necessary.  So 
you  see  the  cane  vines  are  just  like  great 
natural  ropes,  and  are  very  strong. 

The  men  take  perhaps  ten  or  twelve  lengths 
of  cane  and  bind  them  roughly  together,  and 
by  joining  others  to  the  ends  of  these  they 
make  a  sort  of  net  to  stretch  across  the  river. 
They  tie  the  ends  to  the  two  postlike  rocks, 
and  leave  the  whole  boom  slack  enough  to 
permit  of  its  lying  on  the  surface  of  the 
water.  This  allows  for  the  gradual  falling 
of  the  river  as  the  season  progresses.  Then 
the  part  of  the  boom  actually  in  the  water  is 
strengthened  by  logs  tied  to  it  all  along  its 
length. 

Anything  that  floats  down  the  stream  is 
stopped  by  the  boom.  The  little  canoes  the 
village  people  use,  slip  by  at  the  end  under 
the  cane,  as  it  arches  down  from  the  rock  to 
the  water.  Our  mission  launch  rides  over  the 
boom  without  difficulty,  a  log  being  removed 
to  let  us  pass  in  that  way.  Of  course,  the 
engine  is  stopped,  else  the  blades  of  the  pro- 
peller would  be  broken.  Nothing  else  can 
drift  through  here,  for  the  space  is  closed  by 


Floating  Logs  ']'] 

floating  logs  which  are  shifted  aside  like  a 
gateway  when  necessary. 

As  logs  are  collected  against  the  boom, 
the  men  make  them  into  rafts,  tying  the  logs 
together  with  either  ropes  or  canes.  When 
a  number,  perhaps  five  or  six  rafts,  are  ready, 
they  go  on  their  journey  downstream.  Some- 
times little  bamboo  houses  are  built  on  the 
rafts.  They  make  a  very  pretty  sight  as  they 
float  peacefully  on,  tying  up  near  shore  at 
night  and  resuming  their  journey  next  day. 

The  distance  to  the  mills  is  perhaps  eighty 
miles,  and  sometimes  more.  When  the  rafts 
near  the  town,  they  are  taken  in  tow  by  tugs, 
which  tow  them  to  the  special  mills  where 
they  belong. 

In  Burma  there  is  a  kind  of  timber  called 
pyengadu,  or  ironwood,  which  is  too  heavy 
to  float  in  water;  so  a  number  of  bamboos  are 
tied  to  each  log.  In  this  way  it  is  possible  to 
send  them  down  the  river  in  rafts.  The 
bamboos  are  not  wasted,  but  are  sold  sep- 
arately in  the  towns,  where  they  are  useful 
for  many  purposes. 

Pyengadu  is  a  very  strong  wood,  as  its 
common  name     (ironwood)     implies.      It  is 


78      Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

much  used  for  posts  and  heavy  framework  in 
houses,  but  as  it  is  rather  coarse,  it  is  not 
much  used  for  doors  or  windows,  or  for  fur- 
niture. Teak,  although  it  is  more  costly,  is 
generally  used  for  such  purposes  in  Burma. 
The  reason  why  these  two  kinds  of  wood  are 
preferred  is  that  they  are  not  damaged  by 
white  ants,  which  quickly  destroy  many  other 
varieties. 

Another  kind  of  wood  found  in  Burma 
is  padauk,  which  comes  from  the  tree  called 
in  English  the  gum  kino  tree.  Burmese  peo- 
ple say  that  when  the  padauk  tree  has  flow- 
ered three  times,  the  yearly  rainy  season  will 
start.  This  wood  is  hard  and  smooth,  some- 
thing like  mahogany  in  appearance  and  use- 
fulness. 

Besides  this  there  is  the  ingyin,  or  Shorea, 
tree,  which  is  the  sal  tree  of  East  India.  The 
wood  of  it  is  not  so  good  as  teak.  It  is  liable 
to  be  eaten  by  white  ants,  so  it  cannot  be  used 
with  safety  in  house  building;  and  as  it  twists 
and  shrinks  greatly  when  dry,  it  is  not 
suitable  for  furniture.  The  Indian  varieties, 
though,  are  better  for  this  purpose  than  those 
found  in  Burma. 


Floating  Logs  79 

The  leaves  of  this  tree  are  valuable,  being 
used  for  the  roofing  of  houses.  While  green, 
the  leaves  are  folded  over  and  skewered  onto 
thin  laths  of  bamboo  about  six  feet  long;  a 
number  of  these  laths  are  then  tied  tightly 
together,  so  that  the  leaves  may  dry  out  quite 
flat.  These  are  laid  on  the  roof  much  as 
you  have  seen  carpenters  lay  shingles,  row 
after  row,  each  higher  row  overlapping  the 
one  just  below. 

The  villagers  say  that  if  a  spark  of  fire 
should  fall  onto  a  roof  of  this  leaf,  it  would 
just  smolder  a  hole  through;  but  with  a  roof 
of  grass  or  cocoanut  or  other  palm  leaf  (the 
nipa  palm  leaf,  which  the  Burmese  call 
dani,  is  much  used),  there  would  be  great 
danger  of  a  spark's  setting  the  whole  thing 
on  fire  very  quickly. 

Buddhists  say  that  Buddha  was  under  a 
sal  tree  when  he  died. 

Another  tree  often  seen  in  Burma  is  the 
Eugenia,  a  sort  of  myrtle,  which  the  Burmese 
call  thabye.  The  leaves  of  this  are  used  in 
religious  offerings,  and  are  worn  by  soldiers 
as  victors'  garlands.  There  was  a  tree  of 
this  kind  near  one  house  we  lived   in,   and 


8o     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

from  the  branches  swung  two  or  three  birds' 
nests  shaped  like  bottles. 

All  these  logs  are  sent  down  the  river  and 
must  be  handled  by  the  men.  They  become 
very  expert  in  walking  and  running  about  on 
the  rolling,  turning,  slipping  logs.  Gen- 
erally the  weight  of  a  man  walking  on  it 
pushes  a  log  under  the  water,  but  that  does 
not  seem  to  worry  the  men  at  all.  Most  of 
them  are  barefooted.  The  men  catch  the 
single  logs  in  midstream.  When  one  is  seen 
approaching,  two  men  will  go  out  in  a  canoe 
and  paddle  alongside,  and  when  they  reach 
it,  one  of  them  will  step  onto  it,  and  guide  it 
to  the  shore  with  his  paddle.  All  the  time 
the  log  is  rolling  and  twisting  under  him;  but 
he  is  quite  used  to  that,  and  keeps  his  balance 
without  any  trouble. 

Sometimes  I  have  had  to  cross  a  narrow 
stream  on  a  bridge  which  was  nothing  more 
than  a  heavy  log  floating  on  the  water,  and 
loosely  tied  at  either  end  to  the  banks.  As  I 
sank  knee-deep  in  water  when  the  log  went 
down  under  my  weight,  it  was  no  easy  task  to 
keep  from  tumbling  off.  What  would  it  be 
on  a  log  drifting  free  on  a  swift  stream? 


Floating  Logs  8i 

So  the  work  goes  on,  year  in,  year  out, 
bringing  the  valuable  logs  from  the  forests 
down  to  the  sawmills,  where  they  are  cut  up 
into  useful  sizes  and  shipped  all  over  the 
world. 

The  mission  dispensary  here  helps  the 
people  who  work  on  the  logs  and  rafts.  One 
evening  two  men  were  out  bringing  in  logs, 
and  saw  what  they  thought  was  another  log 
drifting  down  toward  them.  They  paddled 
their  canoe  toward  it.  Suddenly  they  dis- 
covered that  it  was  not  a  log  at  all,  but  a 
huge   tiger   swimming   the   stream. 

The  brute  gave  chase,  and  as  they  came  to 
a  shallow  part  of  the  river,  the  tiger  gained 
its  footing  and  attacked  the  men  in  the  canoe. 
With  its  forepaws  it  grabbed  at  the  thigh  of 
one  of  them,  and  badly  tore  it  with  its  claws. 
The  man  had  the  presence  of  mind  to  jam  a 
paddle  down  its  throat,  and  so  frightened  it 
ofif.  The  injured  man  was  brought  to  the 
mission  dispensary,  where  the  workers  at- 
tended to  his  wounds. 


A  Native   Sawmill 
"  Zhip  —  zhup  !  Zhip  —  zhup  I  "  Up  and  down  goes  the  big  saw. 


THE   WAY  YOUR   HOUSE   WOULD 
BE  BUILT 

A  Native  Sawmill  —  Strange  Methods  in  Carpentry 
—  Using  Toes  for  Fingers 

"Zhip  —  zhup!  Zhip  —  zhup!"  Up  and 
down  goes  the  big  saw,  slowly  ripping  up 
the  tree  trunk,  while  the  sawdust  (or  saw 
food,  as  the  Burmese  call  it)  spurts  out  at 
each  stroke. 

The  men  have  erected  what  is  called  a 
saw  pit,  and  in  it  they  are  cutting  up  wood 
for  the  house  building.  If  there  is  a  place 
with  a  convenient  hole  in  the  ground  already, 
then  there  will  be  something  that  looks  like 
an  actual  pit;  but  if  not,  the  sawyers  will 
probably  get  along  with  everything  above 
ground  level.  The  pit  saves  them  the  labor 
of  lifting  the  logs  up  on  the  sawing  platform. 
Burmese  are  not  very  ambitious,  so  it  does  not 
seem  to  matter  how  much  trouble  is  caused 
later  on.  They  consider  that  they  have  saved 
themselves  the  work  of  digging  a  pit. 


84     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

It  takes  two  men  to  work  the  saw,  one 
being  on  the  ground  and  the  other  on  the 
platform  which  supports  the  tree  trunk. 
Naturally  the  work  done  in  such  a  way  is 
not  so  regular  as  that  done  at  the  sawmill; 
but  it  is  really  surprising  how  accurately 
these  men  can  work.  Generally  they  are  paid 
for  making  -so  many  cuts,  each  twelve  cubits 
(eighteen  feet)  long  and  a  span  wide;  so  the 
more  boards  one  orders  to  be  cut  out  of  a 
log,  the  more  he  must  pay  for  the  work  of 
cutting  it  up. 

These  men  are  working  for  Ah  Ku,  who, 
after  saving  up  for  some  years,  now  has 
enough  money  on  hand  to  enable  him  to 
start  building  himself  a  better  house.  Some 
little  while  ago  he  came  to  me  with  a  re- 
quest that  I  go  to  the  government  office  and 
secure  him  a  permit  to  cut  the  trees  he 
needed ;  and  that  is  how  I  learned  that  he 
planned  to  build  a  house.  You  see,  in  order 
to  stop  the  waste  of  valuable  trees,  the  gov- 
ernment permits  villagers  to  cut  down  with- 
out permission,  only  trees  fit  for  nothing  but 
firewood.  This  permission  is  supposed  to  be 
granted  free,  except  in  the  case  of  specially 


Building  Your  House  85 

valuable  woods,  like  teak,  which  are  taxed 
unless  required  for  a  public  purpose,  such 
as  a  village  bridge  or  school;  but  actually, 
the  villagers  fear  much  that  their  country- 
man, who  may  happen  to  be  the  petty  govern- 
ment official  whose  duty  it  is  to  give  the 
necessary  license,  will  demand  some  gift  for 
himself. 

Once  the  license  has  been  granted,  ar- 
rangements are  made  for  the  selected  trees 
to  be  stamped  with  the  government  mark. 
Then  a  license  must  be  secured  to  make  a  saw 
pit.  Each  of  these  occasions  seems  to  de- 
mand a  little  gift.  So  the  missionary  is  not 
infrequently  called  upon  to  protect  the  in- 
terests of  his  friends  in  such  matters. 

The  taxes  that  the  government  collects 
on  teak  and  other  valuable  woods,  pay  for 
the  expense  of  guarding  the  forests  from 
wastage  or  damage,  and,  too,  some  consid- 
erable amount  is  left  over  for  other  useful 
enterprises,  such  as  schools,  road  building, 
and  the  like. 

Ah  Ku  has  his  trees  felled  now,  and  the 
men  are  busy  cutting  out  the  big  square  posts, 
seven   or  eight  inches   thick,   and   the   other 


86     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

pieces  required  for  the  joists  and  rafters. 
Then  the  planking  for  the  walls  and  flooring 
must  be  cut.  For  the  roof,  tiles  will  be 
brought  a  good  many  miles  across  country 
by  bullock  cart. 

Watch  the  carpenter.  He  does  not  have 
a  bench  at  which  to  work,  but  sits  astride  the 
piece  he  is  planing.  If  it  happens  to  be  the 
edge  of  a  plank  that  he  is  working  on,  then 
he  will  drive  two  pegs  into  the  ground,  one 
on  each  side  of  the  board;  and  these  serve  to 
keep  the  work  steady.  If  he  should  be  cut- 
ting a  joint  with  a  chisel,  he  may  use  his  feet 
to  help  hold  the  wood  firm. 

We  have  worn  shoes  so  much  of  our  lives 
that  we  do  not  realize  how  much  can  be  done 
with  our  toes  and  feet  in  the  way  of  holding 
objects.  These  people  are  able  to  pick  up 
small  articles  with  their  toes  almost  as  readily 
as  with  their  fingers.  The  carpenter  is  not 
the  only  one  who  holds  his  work  steady  with 
his  feet;  the  shoemaker  also  does  the  same 
thing,  thus  leaving  his  hands  free  for  his 
tools.  This,  of  course,  suits  their  habit  of 
squatting  on  the  ground  to  work.  It  is  all 
very  interesting  to  the  foreigner. 


Building  Your  House  87 

When  a  number  of  posts  and  joists  are 
ready,  Ah  Ku  will  begin  the  building.  First 
of  all  he  must  dig  the  holes  in  the  ground 
into  which  the  posts  are  to  fit.  But  he  does  not 
use  a  shovel  for  this  work. 

There  is  one  of  his  sons  at  work  digging 
a  hole.  We  should  find  it  hard  to  do  much, 
crouching  in  such  a  position,  for  he  is  squat- 
ting there  on  his  haunches,  with  his  knees 
under  his  chin,  poking  away  with  a  blunt 
tool  that  brings  the  earth  up  very  slowly. 
It  is  a  convenient  position  though,  for  when 
the  hlwa  thamah  or  the  let  thamah  (the  saw- 
yer or  the  carpenter)  feels  inclined  to  chat, 
why,  one  is  already  comfortably  seated,  and 
so  can  carry  on  the  conversation  without  the 
least   inconvenience. 

One  by  one  the  posts  are  slipped  into  the 
holes  dug  for  them;  and  until  the  joists  are 
fastened  on,  they  will  be  held  upright  by 
laths  nailed  on  and  arranged  like  a  tripod. 
For  a  plumb  line  with  which  to  see  if  each 
post  is  standing  properly  upright.  Ah  Ku  has 
an  old  bottle  tied  to  the  end  of  a  thin  rope; 
and  although  it  is  rough-and-ready,  as  we 
should  say,  it  serves  the  purpose  to  his  satis- 


Burmese  Natives  at  Home 

Notice   the   thatched   roof,   the   matting   wall,   and   the   swinging 

window,  also  of  matting.     The  high  foundation  posts 

keep  the  floor  dry  in  the  rainy  season. 


Building  Your  House  89 

faction.  He  has  not  money  enough  to  buy 
more  elaborate  tools. 

Once  the  frame  and  the  floor  of  the  house 
are  in  place,  the  family  will  probably  "  move 
in  "  to  their  new  quarters,  and  build  the  walls 
round  themselves  little  by  little  afterward, 
finishing  the  roof  in  the  same  way.  For  the 
time  being,  some  rough  matting  will  serve  to 
partition  off  a  part,  and  a  thatch  will  make  a 
roof,  so  they  can  get  along. 

They  must  wait  until  after  the  next  rice 
crop  has  been  gathered  in  and  sold  before 
they  will  have  money  enough  to  buy  all  the 
materials  needed;  and  as  far  as  the  work  of 
building  is  concerned,  Ah  Ku  and  his  sons 
will  do  most  of  it  when  they  are  not  busy  in 
the  fields. 

Then,  too,  by  moving  into  the  new  house, 
they  can  pull  down  the  old  one,  and  use 
whatever  material  in  it  is  still  good. 

When  all  is  finished,  they  will  have  a 
really  substantial  house.  Everything  will  be 
on  the  one  floor,  about  six  feet  above  the 
ground,  with  a  large  veranda  outside,  part  of 
it  roofed  and  part  uncovered.  Inside  there 
will    be    just    the    main    living-room,    about 


90     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

twenty  feet  square,  with  a  smaller  room  off 
from  it.  For  a  cooking  place  a  heavy 
wooden  frame  is  filled  with  clay,  making  a 
cheap  hearthstone;  on  this  some  bricks  or 
stones  will  be  placed  as  supports  for  the 
cooking  pots. 

Cooking  over  a  wood  fire  on  such  an  open 
fireplace,  and  inside  the  living-room  too,  will 
mean  that  there  will  be  a  good  deal  of  smoke, 
and  it  will  not  be  long  before  the  nice, 
fresh,  reddish  tint  of  the  newly  planed  wood 
(much  of  which  is  what  is  called  pyinma) 
will  disappear,  and  the  whole  place  will  be 
smoked  and  grimy.  Up  in  the  rafters  a 
medley  of  fish  traps,  yokes  for  the  oxen,  spin- 
ning wheels,  and  a  variety  of  other  gear  will 
in  time  accumulate,  all  to  catch  their  share 
of  smoke  and  grime.  Yet,  while  we  should 
probably  find  them  a  poor  sort  of  place  to  call 
our  home,  these  wooden  houses,  with  their 
floors  well  up  from  the  ground,  and  the  ceil- 
ings of  the  room  quite  lofty,  are  much  health- 
ier for  the  people  than  the  poor  mud  huts  in 
which  so  many  live,  across  the  Bay  of  Bengal 
in  India.  Every  country  has  its  own  kind  of 
house,  adapted  to  its  special  conditions. 


Building  Your  House  91 

Little  by  little  the  seeds  of  Christian 
education  are  sown  among  the  people,  and 
their  houses,  as  well  as  their  lives,  are  puri- 
fied and  brightened.  Home  becomes  to  them 
what  it  is  to  us,  a  foretaste  of  the  mansions 
which  Jesus  is  preparing  for  those  who  look 
for  His  appearing. 


GETTING  FOOD  FROM  THE  RIVERS 

Wading  in  High  Water  —  Aung  Baw's  Fish  Trap  — 
Catching  Fish  Wholesale  —  Strange  Nets 

Rain,  rain,  rain!  It  seems  as  if  it  will 
never  stop.  For  days  past  it  has  poured 
down  with  hardly  a  break.  Out  in  front  of 
the  house  the  river  has  steadily  risen,  and 
now  is  creeping  over  the  banks,  till  we  can 
see  it  shining  through  the  grass.  Farther 
down  the  river,  where  the  ground  is  some- 
what lower,  the  water  is  a  foot  or  more  deep 
over  the  bank;  so,  were  we  on  the  launch, 
which  lands  its  passengers  at  that  point,  we 
should  have  to  wade  to  dry  land  with  the 
water  up  to  our  knees. 

Ah,  the  sun  is  struggling  to  shine  through 
the  clouds,  so  let  us  come  out  and  watch  the 
stream  for  a  little  while.  We  put  on  shoes 
that  have  a  few  eyelets  fixed  in  the  uppers, 
just  above  the  sole  near  the  instep,  so  that 
when  the  shoes  get  filled  with  water,  the 
water  will  drain  away  without  difficulty.  If 
we  stopped  to  take  them  oflf  every  time  they 


94     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

filled  with  water,  we  should  not  make  much 
progress. 

There  is  a  fish  trap  such  as  Aung  Baw 
keeps  under  his  roof.  It  is  a  strong  basket 
made  of  split  bamboo,  and  is  about  four  feet 
long  and  a  foot  or  more  across.  One  end  is 
pointed  like  a  torpedo,  while  the  other  has  a 
funnel-shaped  collar  fitted  into  it,  with  an 
opening  left  in  the  center.  This  wider  end 
is  fixed  toward  the  direction  from  which  the 
current  flows. 

Above,  there  is  a  door  all  ready  to  slide 
down  and  completely  close  the  opening. 
Whenever  a  fish  swims  in  and  starts  eating 
the  bait,  it  releases  the  door.  The  owner 
of  the  trap  can  go  about  his  other  work, 
coming  now  and  then  to  see  if  he  has  caught 
anything. 

There  is  another  way  of  catching  fish, 
which  is  much  used  in  the  rainy  season,  but 
is  useful  only  for  very  narrow  streams. 

At  some  convenient  place  where  the 
stream  is  about  ten  or  twelve  feet  wide,  a  close 
fence  is  made  of  bamboo  and  other  sticks, 
which  are  driven  into  the  mud  at  the  bottom. 
As  far  as  possible  all  the  little  holes  in  the 


Food  from  the  Rivers  95 

fence  are  filled  up.  It  must  be  high  enough 
so  that  the  stream  cannot  flow  over  it  except 
at  one  place  in  the  center,  which  is  about  two 
feet  wide.  Leading  from  this  gap  in  the  top 
of  the  fence,  a  sort  of  platform  is  built,  which 
stretches  on  the  surface  of  the  water  perhaps 
six  or  eight  feet  down  the  stream.  The  bot- 
tom of  it  is  of  closely  plaited  bamboo, 
through  which  the  water,  but  not  the  fish, 
can  pass.  It  also  has  sides  to  prevent  them 
from  wriggling  off  over  the  edges.  This 
platform  slopes  up  slightly;  so  as  the  water 
comes  rushing  along  and  cannot  get  past  the 
fence,  except  through  the  gap  in  the  middle, 
i-t  is  all  strained  through  the  platform,  leav- 
ing the  fish,  big  and  little,  squirming  and 
wriggling  behind. 

Even  the  tiny  little  fellows  just  hatched 
out  of  their  eggs  are  caught  in  this  way;  and 
it  makes  one  wonder  how  a  fish  ever  escapes 
to  grow  big.  The  "  catch  "  of  fish  is  taken 
home  and  cleaned,  and  packed  with  salt,  so  as 
to  keep  for  the  larger  part  of  the  year.  This 
forms  one  of  the  principal  "  relishes  "  that 
the  people  have  to  eat  with  their  rice.  The 
salted  fish  is  cooked  into  a  sort  of  thin  stew. 


96      Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

Where  there  is  a  stretch  of  low,  marshy 
country,  still  another  method  of  fishing  is 
employed.  This  time  the  bamboo  is  split 
into  thin  strips  about  a  third  of  an  inch  thick 
and  four  or  five  feet  long.  These  are  laid 
side  by  side  and  fastened  together  by  strings 
passed  under  and  over,  so  as  to  make  up 
lengths  of  screening  which  can  be  rolled  up 
and  easily  carried  about.  Often  one  sees 
similar  screening  used  in  hot  countries,  as 
sun  blinds;  but  here  it  has  a  different  use. 

Across  a  corner  of  the  marsh  a  number  of 
stout  stakes  are  driven  into  the  mud,  and  to 
these  the  lengths  of  screening  are  tied,  so  as 
to  form  a  light  fence  inclosing  the  corner 
from  the  rest  of  the  marsh,  except  for  a 
gateway  which  is  left  open  at  times. 

When  the  gate  is  closed,  the  fishermen 
go  within  the  inclosure  and  wade  about  with 
nets  fixed  on  handles,  like  butterfly  or  shrimp- 
ing nets.  In  this  way  they  catch  all  the  fish 
which  may  have  been  unfortunate  enough  to 
swim  inside.  When  the  "  catch  "  has  been 
made,  the  gateway  is  opened  again  and  left 
so,  until  it  is  thought  that  there  are  enough 
fish  inside  to  make   it  worth  while  wading 


Food  from  the  Rivers  97 

up  and  down  again;  and  then  once  more  the 
process  is  repeated. 

In  the  dry  season,  when  the  big  rivers 
are  neither  so  swift  nor  so  muddy  as  they 
are  in  the  rainy  weather,  the  fishing  is  done 
with  nets.  Sometimes  a  long  net,  eight  or 
ten  feet  broad,  is  used,  light  wooden  floats 
being  fixed  to  one  edge,  and  small  stone  or 
metal  weights  to  the  other.  This  net  is 
swiftly  passed  out  over  the  side  of  a  moving 
canoe,  and  floats  in  the  water  upright  like  a 
wall,  the  weights  causing  the  one  edge  to 
sink,  and  the  floats  keeping  the  other  on  the 
surface. 

After  being  left  in  this  way  for  a  while, 
with  each  end  secured  in  a  canoe,  the  force 
of  the  stream  naturally  pulls  the  net  into  the 
form  of  a  crescent;  and  then  the  canoes  at  the 
end  gradually  row  to  the  shore,  drawing  to- 
gether as  they  go,  and  often  inclosing  within 
the  net  a  good  number  of  fish. 

Other  nets  are  made  up  into  a  circular 
shape,  about  twenty  feet  or  so  across,  and 
having  small  weights  fastened  to  the  edge. 
This   net   is   held    in    the   center   by   a    man 

wading  in  the  shallow  water,  who  throws  it 

7 


\JI 


98      Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

so  that  it  may  fall  like  a  bell  on  the  water, 
gradually  sinking  and  drawing  in  as  it  goes. 
Quite  large  fish   are  caught  in  this  way. 

The  people  make  their  own  nets.  This 
provides  them  with  something  to  do  during 
the  dry  season,  when  it  is  not  possible  to  cul- 
tivate the  fields  according  to  their  usual 
methods. 

According  to  the  Buddhist  teaching,  it 
is  held  to  be  very  wrong  indeed  to  take  life 
in  any  form;  so  fishing  is  not  thought  to  be 
a  nice  occupation;  but  the  fishermen  con- 
sole themselves  by  saying  that,  after  all,  they 
do  not  kill  the  fish,  but  the  fish  just  die  of 
themselves  when  they  are  taken  out  of  the 
water.  In  the  same  way,  many  of  the  peo- 
ple excuse  themselves  for  eating  meat,  by 
saying  that  the  butcher  had  killed  the  animals 
before  they  went  to  buy,  so  it  was  not  their 
fault  that  the  poor  things'  lives  were  taken. 
They  also  eat  the  flesh  of  animals  which  have 
died  naturally;  but  this,  while  it  certainly 
clears  th.eir  religious  scruples  about  taking 
life,  is  very  unhealthful. 

As  I  have  watched  the  fisher  folk  at  their 
work,   I   have  many  times  thought  of   those 


Food  from  the  Rivers 


99 


humble  fishermen  of  old,  who,  having  re- 
ceived the  Lord  into  their  hearts  for  them- 
selves, under  His  blessing  became  fishers  of 
men,  and  the  foundation  of  His  church.  So 
1  have  been  encouraged  to  believe  that  some 
of  these  simple  folk  of  Burma  would  become 
faithful  workers  in  the  gospel  cause  —  and 
some  have. 


High  Water 
Rain,  rain,  rain  !     It  seems  as  if  it  will  never  stop. 


BUDDHIST  BOYS   IN  THE 
MONASTERIES 

Entering  the  Kyaung — Begging  for   Food  —  A  Sad 
Belief  —  A  Young  Heart  Touched 

Shwe  Tha  was  on  his  way  home  from 
the  monastery.  A  bright,  intelligent-looking 
boy  about  fifteen  years  old,  he  was  bowing 
down  before  a  Buddhist  monk  when  I  first 
noticed  him.  This  is  not  an  uncommon  sight 
in  Burma,  and  is  typical  of  the  respect  shown 
by  people  in  Eastern  countries  to  their  reli- 
gious teachers. 

We  were  going  up  the  river  Salwin  by 
steam  launch.  When  the  monk  reached  his 
village,  I  made  friends  with  the  boy. 

"Why  do  you  worship  the  pongyi 
(monk)  ? "  I  asked,  as  I  sat  down  on  the 
deck  beside  him. 

"  Thakin  (sir),  that  is  what  I  was  taught 
to  do  in  the   kyaung   (monastery)." 

"  Oh,  so  you  have  been  to  the  monastery, 
have  you?"  From  the  answer  to  this  ques- 
tion I  learned  that  Shwe  Tha  had  left  thie 


I02     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

monastery  only  a  short  time  before,  and  was 
now  on  his  way  to  his  village. 

It  is  the  rule  for  every  Buddhist  boy  in 
Burma  to  go  to  the  monastery  for  a  short 
period,  if  only  for  a  few  days.  This  is  apart 
from  any  time  he  may  spend  there  learning 
the  ordinary  lessons  of  reading,  writing,  and 
arithmetic.  Although  he  may  attend  some 
other  school  for  that  purpose,  he  will  pass 
a  short  time  in  the  monastery,  wearing  the 
yellow  robe  like  a  regular  monk,  and  receiv- 
ing special  teaching  in  his   religious  duties. 

When  a  boy  is  about  to  enter  the  kyaung 
in  this  way,  his  friends  make  a  feast  in  his 
honor,  and  presents  are  given  to  the  monks 
who  are  to  take  the  boy  under  their  charge. 

Certain  monasteries  become  famous  all 
over  the  country,  just  like  some  of  our  col- 
leges; and  boys  will  come  from  great  dis- 
tances to  be  received  into  them,  although 
practically  every  village  has  its  own  monas- 
tery, with  one  or  two  monks  in  it.  Perhaps 
a  number  of  other  boys  in  the  village  are  to 
go  in  at  the  same  time;  and  if  this  should  be 
the  case,  maybe  they  will  all  go  in  procession 
through   the  streets,  their  friends   following 


In  the  Monasteries  103 

after  them.  It  is  said  that  this  procession  is 
to  remind  people  that  the  founder  of  the 
Buddhist  religion,  who  was  a  prince,  gave  up 
his  earthly  friends  in  order  to  become  a  monk. 
It  serves  a  real  purpose,  the  same  as  wedding 
and  other  processions  in  the  East,  in  giving 
notice  to  the  whole  village  that  a  special 
event  has  taken  place. 

After  the  feast  is  over,  the  boy  goes  to 
the  monastery,  where  his  head  is  shaved  (he 
usually  wears  his  hair  long  like  a  girl's),  and 
he  prays  that  he  may  be  admitted  as  a  shin- 
byu,  that  is,  as  a  beginner  in  the  order  of 
monks.  He  is  then  robed  in  the  usual  yellow 
garments,  the  begging  bowl  is  hung  round 
his  neck,  and  he  is  left  to  spend  some  time 
as  a  pupil  of  the  pongyis.  Perhaps  he  will 
stay  as  long  as  three  or  four  months;  but  very 
often  about  a  week  is  all  the  time  that  is  so 
spent. 

Now  he  must  live  just  like  a  monk. 
Early  next  morning  he  is  roused  up  with  the 
others  by  the  tones  of  the  wooden  bell,  which 
is  sounded  just  before  daylight.  So  many 
times  I  have  heard  it,  —  klonk,  klonk,  —  not 
altogether  unmusical  either,  sounding  out  in 


I04     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

the  chill,  damp  morning  air.  In  the  monas- 
tery this  means  that  all  must  get  up,  from  the 
gray-haired  seniors  to  the  boys  just  admitted; 
and  then  after  all  have  tidied  themselves,  the 
morning  prayers  are  said. 

Now  comes  the  part  of  the  daily  round 
that  most  impresses  us  who  are  strangers;  for 
all  must  go  out  and  beg  the  day's  food.  In 
a  single  file  the  yellow-robed,  barefooted 
figures  walk  slowly  down  the  village  street, 
the  hands  of  each  clasped  round  the  begging 
bowl  as  it  hangs  in  front  of  him.  No  word 
or  look  of  thanks  may  be  given  as  the  devout 
heap  in  their  gifts;  for  it  is  their  belief  that 
the  giver  has  been  favored  by  this  oppor- 
tunity of  doing  a  good  work.  Perhaps  the 
bowls  are  filled  before  the  round  of  the  vil- 
lage is  completed,  but  that  does  not  matter, 
for  the  extra  food  can  be  given  to  the  birds 
and   dogs,  who   are  equally   needy  of   food. 

Strictly,  the  monks  should  eat  no  food 
other  than  that  which  has  been  thus  begged; 
but  in  many  cases  another  meal  is  cooked,  the 
offerings  received  along  the  village  streets 
being  all  given  to  the  birds  and  dogs.  Al- 
though all  of  them  must  go  out  and  beg  food 


In  the  Monasteries  105 

in  this  way,  many  of  the  pongyis  are  quite 
wealthy,  for  a  great  deal  is  given  to  them  as 
presents  on  the  occasion  of  various  ceremonies 
and  feasts.  They  are  not  supposed  to  handle 
gold  and  silver;  so  if  they  are  at  all  rigid 
in  their  efforts  to  obey  their  law,  they  find  it 
a  little  difficult  to  be  faultless  nowadays. 
For  instance,  when  they  travel,  like  every 
one  else  they  must  purchase  the  necessary 
tickets.  Sometimes  they  will  have  a  boy  or 
other  servant  with  them  who  carries  the 
money,  so  that  they  themselves  do  not  have 
to  touch  it. 

It  is  quite  a  common  sight,  though,  to 
see  a  pongyi  traveling  alone  on  a  street  car, 
carrying  his  money  wrapped  in  paper;  and 
he  hands  this  to  the  conductor,  who  takes  out 
the  amount  required  for  the  fare,  rewraps 
the  change,  and  hands  it  back;  and  thus  the 
monk  himself  does  not  actually  touch  the 
money,  but  only  the  paper  in  which  it  is 
wrapped. 

During  the  daytime  the  younger  members 
of  the  monastery  are  required  to  study  the 
sacred  books,  committing  much  to  memory. 
These  books  are  frequently  written  on  pages 


io6     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

made  from  the  leaves  of  a  certain  tree,  which 
have  been  pressed  out  quite  flat  and  cut  into 
pieces  about  twelve  or  fifteen  inches  by  three, 
tied  together  by  strings  and  laced  through 
holes  in  one  of  the  shorter  sides. 

While  the  juniors  are  so  engaged,  the 
older  monks  spend  a  good  deal  of  time  just 
quietly  sitting  and  thinking,  for  they  believe 
that  this  is  very  helpful  to  the  living  of  a 
good  life  and  the  gaining  of  deliverance. 
No  food  is  taken  after  midday,  so  the  second 
and  last  meal  of  the  day  is  eaten  just  before 
the  sun  reaches  its  highest  point  in  the  heav- 
ens, and  the  shadows  begin  to  slope  toward 
the  east  for  the  dying  of  the  day. 

Evening  time  sees  all  gathered  together 
once  more  for  prayers;  and  after  the  recita- 
tion by  the  younger  ones  of  all  the  lessons 
they  have  ever  learned,  and  the  chanting  of 
the  praises  of  Gautama  Buddha  by  all,  the 
day  closes  with  worshiping  before  his  image. 
Solemnly  they  retire  to  rest;  and  it  is  this 
quiet  routine  of  monastery  life  coming  in  the 
experience  of  nearly  every  young  man  in 
Burma,  which  so  deeply  roots  Buddhism  in 
him. 


In  the  Monasteries  107 

Sometimes  a  man  will  leave  his  regular 
work  and  his  family  for  a  while,  in  order  to 
spend  a  few  months  in  the  monastery  in  a 
similar  way. 

While  this  religion  of  the  people  of 
Burma  sets  before  them  some  good  laws,  ac- 
cording to  which  they  are  expected  to  live, 
yet  it  has  much  in  it  that  must  make  us  sad. 
It  teaches  that  there  is  no  God  at  all,  so  that 
the  Buddhist  receives  no  help  from  any 
higher  being  in  his  endeavor  to  live  aright; 
nor  does  he  enjoy  the  peace  which  comes 
from  faith  in  a  God  of  love  and  mercy,  and 
of  infinite  power.  Moreover,  the  world,  ac- 
cording to  his  belief,  always  was  and  always 
will  be  sinful  and  a  place  of  sorrow;  and 
there  can  be  no  real  happiness  whatever  in 
life. 

The  healthiest  man  may  fall  a  victim  to 
any  and  every  disease;  the  very  strongest  of 
all  must  die;  and  after  death  the  wealthiest 
man  in  the  world  has  no  more  than  the 
meanest  beggar.  The  more  healthy  a  man 
is,  the  more  terrible  for  him  the  thought  of 
the  helplessness  of  the  sick;  the  stronger  he 
is,  the  more  dreadful  for  him  the  knowledge 


io8     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

that  some  day  he  must  lie  cold  in  death;  and 
the  richer  he  may  be,  the  more  unwilling 
he  will  be  to  leave  his  wealth  behind.  So 
all  longing  for  what  this  world  has,  and  for 
life,  only  gives  rise  to  added  sorrow;  and  the 
only  way  to  true  happiness  is  to  try  to  over- 
come all  desire  for  life  and  the  things  it 
brings. 

Some  of  their  books  say  the  man  who 
started  this  religion  —  his  name  was  Gau- 
tama, and  he  lived  many  hundreds  of  years 
ago  —  was  so  anxious  to  be  quite  free  from 
everything  that  might  make  him  want  to 
continue  life,  that  he  actually  gave  away  his 
wife  and  his  own  little  child,  to  a  man  who 
wanted  them  as  slaves.  However  that  may 
be,  we  do  know  that  he  forsook  his  family, 
leaving  them  to  care  for  themselves,  desir- 
ing only  to  try  to  find  some  way  by  which 
he  might  free  himself  from  anything  and 
everything  that  might  bring  him  sorrow. 

How  different  all  this  is  from  the  record 
of  Jesus,  who,  though  He  was  surrounded  by 
perfect  happiness  and  peace,  of  His  own  free 
will  came  to  this  earth  that  He  might  bear 
our   sorrows,    and   so   help    us   escape    from 


In  the  Monasteries  109 

them.  As  for  ourselves,  instead  of  doing 
things  just  to  be  free  from  sorrow  and  care, 
we  should,  like  Jesus  and  Moses,  be  ready 
to  bear  the  sorrows  of  all.  We  should  even 
be  ready  to  endure  eternal  separation  from 
God,  if  that  would  help  our  fellow  men  to 
obtain  forgiveness  of  their  sins. 

Well,  now,  I  have  told  you  so  much  about 
the  life  my  young  friend  Shwe  Tha  lived 
while  in  the  monastery,  that  you  will  have 
almost  forgotten  him;  but  now  you  will  un- 
derstand how  he  came  to  go  there  at  all,  and 
a  little  of  what  he  was  taught  to  believe. 

After  leaving  the  steam  launch,  he  had 
some  eighteen  or  twenty  miles  more  to  travel ; 
and  Shwe  Tha  was  expecting  to  have  to 
walk  all  that  way,  carrying  his  parcel  of 
clothing  with  him.  How  happy  he  was 
when  we  gave  him  an  invitation  to  travel  in 
the  little  mission  launch,  which  was  wait- 
ing for  me  at  the  place  where  the  steamer 
stopped.  It  did  not  take  him  long  to  accept, 
and  away  we  started. 

At  that  time  I  had  been  away  from 
Burma  for  some  little  while,  having  been 
transferred  to  India,  where  they  speak  a  dif- 


no     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

ferent  language;  so  I  thought  this  would 
be  a  good  chance  to  revive  my  knowledge 
of  Burmese,  and  meanwhile  benefit  Shwe 
Tha. 

Out  came  my  Burmese  Testament, —  for 
our  good  Bible  is  to  be  had  in  many  of  these 
strange  languages, —  and  I  told  the  boy  that 
I  wanted  him  to  correct  my  reading,  and  talk 
with  me  about  the  story  I  was  going  to  read 
to  him.  In  this  way  the  two  or  three  hours 
we  had  together  passed  pleasantly  and 
quickly,  and  of  course  he  was  much  inter- 
ested in  what  I  read  to  him. 

It  is  quite  common  in  some  Eastern  coun- 
tries for  religious  teachers  to  have  one  or 
more  disciples  living  and  traveling  with 
them,  and  this  boy  wanted  to  be  my  disciple. 
I  had  to  tell  him  that  I  was  sorry  that  this 
could  not  be  arranged,  as  I  was  in  his  coun- 
try only  for  a  very  short  visit,  and  would 
soon  be  returning  to  the  "  foreign  country," 
which  is  a  name  by  which  Burmans  often 
refer  to  India.  I  am  hoping  to  meet  him 
again  some  day. 

In  our  traveling  round  the  country  we 
meet  diflPerent  friends,  and  learn  from  them 


In  the  Monasteries 


III 


something  of  the  way  in  which  they  live; 
and  in  return,  we  try  to  impart  to  all  some 
knowledge  of  the  way  of  life,  wherein  is 
perfect  peace. 


Bowing  Down  to  a  Monk 


HOW  YOUNG    BURMANS    MAKE 
MERRY 

A  Water  Festival  —  Attack  on  a  Boat  —  The  Light 
Feast  —  Buddha's  Tooth  —  Funeral   Fireworks 

"  Look  out!"  ^ 

I  jumped  aside  just  in  time  to  avoid  be- 
ing drenched  with  a  pail  of  water  thrown 
at  the  street  car  by  a  young  scamp. 

You  see  it  was  the  Burmese  water  fes- 
tival, and  young  Burma  was  out  to  have  a 
good  time.  There  were  long  squirts,  tin 
cans,  and  pails  —  anything  that  would  hold 
water  was  being  used.  Every  one  was  join- 
ing in  the  merrymaking. 

A  strange  way  of  making  merry,  you  may 
think,  soaking  other  people  and  getting 
soaked  oneself;  but  on  a  hot  day  —  and  this 
water  festival  comes  in  the  hot  season  —  it 
must  be  good  fun,  provided  one  is  dressed 
for  the  occasion. 

Just  what  the  reason  for  the  festival  is,  it 
is  hard  to  say,  for  explanations  differ;  but 
the  great  majority  of  the  people  do  not  con- 

8 


114    Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

cern  themselves  with  that  question;  and  for 
them  it  is  simply  a  fact  that  everybody  has 
a  holiday  and  makes  merry. 

The  celebration  is  naturally  restricted  in 
a  city  like  Rangoon,  where  there  are  many 
foreign  residents  who  hardly  appreciate  the 
fun  from  the  Burmese  viewpoint.  But  out 
of  town  the  old-time  spirit  goes  on  una- 
bated. 

One  time  we  were  traveling  up  the  Sal- 
win  by  launch  on  this  particular  festival. 
As  we  drew  into  the  village  of  Nat  Hmaw, 
we  espied  a  crowd  awaiting  us.  Hardly 
had  the  nose  of  the  launch  run  into  the  bank 
when  the  battle  began.  Each  of  the  wait- 
ing villagers  had  a  pail  or  a  can,  and  rush- 
ing into  the  river  waist-deep,  they  began  to 
deluge  the  lower  deck  of  the  launch.  The 
passengers  and  crew  returned  the  "  attack," 
even  the  launch's  pump  being  pressed  into 
service.  What  laughing  and  shouting  there 
was! 

There  are  a  number  of  annual  festivals. 
These  are  made  the  occasion  of  much  fun. 
Even  when  there  is  no  holiday,  some  one  is 
all  the  time  arranging  entertainments. 


Making  Merry  115 

They  have  such  amusements  at  all  times 
of  the  year  except  during  the  Buddhist  Lent. 
This  lasts  about  three  months.  As  prac- 
tically every  Burmese  entertainment,  or 
pway,  as  most  of  them  are  called,  is  held  in 
the  open  air,  and  the  Lenten  period  comes 
during  the  rainy  season,  one  cannot  help 
thinking  that  perhaps  the  refraining  from 
festivities  is  as  much  the  natural  result  of 
the  unsettled  and  rainy  weather  as  of  any 
pious   feeling  of   restraint. 

In  the  autumn  of  the  year  a  very  great 
festival  is  held.  It  is  known  to  foreigners 
as  the  "  light  feast."  In  India  the  Hindus 
and  Mohammedans  each  have  a  somewhat 
similar  celebration. 

On  this  occasion  practically  every  house 
is  decorated  with  little  lights  placed  along 
its  main  outlines.  Hundreds  of  thousands  of 
little  candles,  and  tiny  dishes  of  oil  with 
floating  wicks,  are  lighted  up,  and  it  all 
looks  very  pretty  indeed. 

In  the  big  cities  like  Rangoon  the  in- 
habitants of  certain  streets  band  themselves 
together  to  provide  a  common  fund  for  dec- 
orations.    So   whole   streets   will   be   decked 


ii6     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

out  with  Chinese  lanterns  and  colored  paper 
screens  and  scenery.  Sometimes  a  theatrical 
party  will  be  engaged  to  give  a  public  en- 
tertainment. 

In  the  large  monastery  compounds  some 
wealthy  persons  who  are  desirous  of  acquir- 
ing "merit"  for  their  good  works,  will  give 
entertainments  to  which  will  go  vast  crowds. 
The  whole  place,  instead  of  its  usual  quiet 
air  of  religious  meditation,  will  have  the 
appearance  of  an  all-night  fair,  with  side 
shows,  dramatic  performances,  and  eating 
shops;  and  till  early  dawn  the  sounds  of 
Burmese  bands  rend  the  air,  making  sleep 
impossible  for  those  who  chance  to  live 
near  by.  No  Burman,  though,  would  want 
to  sleep ;  all  who  can,  go  to  see  the  shows, 
snatching  a  little  nap  during  the  intervals 
of  the  performance  or  while  the  musicians 
have  a  rest. 

At  such  a  national  shrine  as  the  big  Shwe 
Dagon  Pagoda  in  Rangoon,  the  crowds  are 
enormous.  Some  few  years  ago  a  relic  of 
Gautama  Buddha,  claimed  to  be  one  of  his 
teeth,  was  discovered  in  India,  and  was  pre- 
sented to  the  people  of  Burma.     With  great 


Making  Merry  117 

pomp  it  arrived  in  the  country,  and  was  con- 
veyed to  the  platform  of  the  pagoda.  It 
was  in  a  magnificently  wrought  casket. 

Up  the  long  flight  of  stairs  leading  from 
the  road,  thousands  upon  thousands  toiled, 
not  so  much  to  make  obeisance  to  the  tooth  as 
to  have  a  part  in  the  fun  that  went  on  above. 
Along  this  staircase,  and  upon  the  platform 
itself,  are  a  number  of  buildings  used  as 
reception-rooms;  and  on  festival  occasions 
these  are  occupied  by  wealthy  people  who 
entertain  their  friends  lavishly.  On  such 
nights  these  places  are  ablaze  with  lights 
and  thronged  by  crowds. 

In  a  building  down  on  the  main  road, 
refreshments  are  available  for  all  who  care 
to  partake  of  them,  there  being  regular 
meals  for  the  poor,  and  even  European  re- 
freshments  for  foreign   visitors. 

The  huge  pagoda  itself  is  lighted  by 
strings  of  electric  lamps;  and  here  and  there 
on  the  great  marble  platform  surrounding 
it,   different  shows   are   in    progress. 

What  a  strange  scene  it  is,  to  be  sure! 
The  crowds  seem  bent  on  merrymaking;  but 
here  and  there   a   pious  group   can  be  seen 


ii8     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

kneeling  before  a  candle-lighted  shrine,  mut- 
tering unknown  prayers,  intent  only  on  their 
own  devotions  and  oblivious  of  the  surging 
throngs  that  stumble  past  them. 

On  the  rivers  the  light  feasts  acquire  an 
added  point  of  beauty;  for  little  rafts  of 
lamps  are  released,  to  float  away  on  the 
stream  till  some  bend  of  the  river  hides 
them  from  sight.  Also,  at  times  boat  races 
are  held  in  big  canoes  holding  twelve  or 
fifteen  persons,  men  and  women  taking  part. 
In  some  parts  of  the  country  the  paddlers 
are  assisted  by  men  who  stand  up  and  use 
their  feet  as  paddles. 

Not  all  the  festivals  take  place  at  night, 
but  some  are  held  during  the  day,  as  for 
instance  the  Zwegobin  festival,  which  is  held 
on  the  plain  below  the  big  hill  near  which 
Aung  Baw  lives.  One  year  I  happened  to 
go  through  that  section  while  this  festival 
was  in  progress.  Large  bands  of  people 
had  collected  there.  Formed  into  groups, 
they  were  going  through  a  kind  of  dancing, 
very  much  like  bands  of  trained  gymnasts. 
I  suppose  their  pilgrimage  included  a  visit 
to  the  pagoda  up  on  top  of  the  hill,  which 


Making  Merry  1 19 

must  be  two  thousand  feet  or  more  high. 
A  large  part  of  the  way  up  is  said  to  re- 
semble a  rough  staircase,  making  the  ascent 
very  difficult. 

Another  occasion  for  great  merrymaking 
is  the  cremation  of  some  famous  monk.  It 
seems  strange  to  talk  of  a  cremation  as  an 
occasion  of  merrymaking;  but  such  is  ac- 
tually the  case.  When  the  monk  dies,  it  is 
customary  to  preserve  the  body,  perhaps  for 
a  year,  in  some  way  or  other,  rumor  having 
it  that  this  is  often  done  by  packing  it  in 
honey;  for  which  reason  the  newcomer  to 
Burma  is  not  infrequently  warned  never  to 
eat  Burmese  honey,  lest  it  should  be  "  second- 
hand." However  that  may  be,  the  reason 
for  preserving  the  corpse  and  thus  delaying 
the  final  cremation  is  to  enable  those  inter- 
ested to  collect  the  funds  necessary  for  a 
great  display. 

Meanwhile  the  body  lies  in  state  in  the 
monastery  until  the  time  arrives.  Then  a 
great  pyre  of  sandalwood  is  built,  theatrical 
parties  and  bands  are  engaged,  and  free  re- 
freshments are  provided.  After  several  days 
of  merriment,   and   probably  the   giving   of 


I20     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

presents  to  a  number  of  monks,  the  actual 
cremation  takes  place,  the  body  being  re- 
moved from  its  temporary  elaborate  coffin 
and  placed  on  the  sandalwood  pyre.  Per- 
haps a  display  of  fireworks  will  bring  the 
ceremonies  to  a  close,  and  all  will  depart 
feeling  that  they  have  had  a  good  time. 

One  cannot  help  comparing  the  so-called 
religious  beliefs  of  the  Burmese  with  the 
actual  practice  of  their  lives;  for  there  is 
a  great  difference  between  the  two.  In  his 
endeavor  to  obtain  the  peace  he  sought, 
Gautama  Buddha  turned  his  back  on  the 
pleasures  of  this  world,  and  urged  all  men 
to  follow  him  in  this.  The  Burman,  though, 
seeks  to  make  of  every  circumstance  of  life 
an  occasion  for  fun.  Births,  naming  cere- 
monies, the  entering  of  the  monastery  by 
young  boys,  marriage,  and  even  death  itself, 
provide  him  with  fresh  excuses  for  an  enter- 
tainment; while  the  regular  round  of  pagoda 
festivals  insures  a  steady  series  of  jollifi- 
cations should  the  other  events  be  too  few 
and  far  between. 

Gautama  Buddha  was  right  in  warning 
men  to  avoid  the  allurements  of  this  world's 


Making  Merry  121 

pleasures;  but  he  was  wrong  in  teaching  that 
humankind  always  was  sinful  and  doomed 
to  sorrow,  and  that  we  exist  apart  from  any 
god;  for  thereby  he  has  robbed  his  follow- 
ers of  all  belief  in  the  wisdom  and  power  of 
God,  who,  having  worked  to  create  His  per- 
fect universe,  is  still  working  to  uphold  it, 
and  to  re-create  man  and  this  world  free 
from  sin  and  sorrow.  So  the  Burman  seeks 
his  solace  in  a  life  of  pleasure;  but  the  only 
hope  for  him  lies  in  the  gospel  of  Christ. 


By  Bullock  Cart  in  Burma 

Ox-carts   are   terribly   slow  conveyances,   according  to  our 
Western    notions. 


BY  CANOE  AND  BULLOCK  CART 
THROUGH  THE  FLOODS 

Making  a  Canoe  —  Water  Spirits  —  Getting  Wet  — 
Orchids  and  Ferns  —  Dak  Bungalows 

Sunshine  or  rain  —  which  are  we  go- 
ing to  have? 

Our  interest  in  the  weather  was  not  un- 
natural, for  it  was  the  rainy  season,  and  we 
had  ahead  of  us  a  three  days'  journey  in  a 
canoe.  When  we  left  Rangoon  on  this  trip 
to  find  a  place  along  the  banks  of  the  Sal- 
win  for  a  Karen  mission  station,  we  had 
intended  to  take  a  large  covered  boat  from 
Shwegon,  the  point  at  which  the  steam 
launch  stopped;  but  we  found  that  no  such 
boat  was  available  just  then,  and  that  we 
would  either  have  to  go  back,  or  make  the 
best  of  it  in  a  small  open  canoe.  So  when 
the  sky  looked  clear  as  we  were  ready  to 
start,  we  felt  much  relieved. 

The  canoe  that  we  hired  was  manned 
by  three  Burmans,  including  the  steersman; 
and  by  the  time  our  bedding  and  food  sup- 


124     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

plies  and  our  two  selves  were  loaded  in,  it 
was  quite  full.  Each  of  us  had  a  narrow 
seat  to  himself,  and  barely  enough  room  in 
front  to  crowd  his  legs  into. 

Burmese  canoes  are  hollowed  out  of  tree 
trunks.  After  being  felled  and  carefully 
chosen,  the  trunks  are  allowed  to  dry  for 
several  months  before  further  work  is  done. 
The  work  of  scooping  out  the  hollow  is  slow, 
for  it  is  done  partly  by  burning  out  the 
wood,  and  partly  by  chipping;  but  in  due 
course  the  desired  shape  is  finished,  and  the 
outside  is  smoothed  down  and  rubbed  over 
with  oil.  A  narrow  planking  is  added  to 
the  sides  to  make  them  higher,  and  seats  are 
built  in   across  the  canoe. 

The  hollowing  out  stops  some  little  dis- 
tance from  each  of  the  two  ends,  both  of 
which  are  shaped  into  a  flat  seat  for  a  steers- 
man, so  the  canoe  can  be  paddled  along 
in  either  direction  without  much  difficulty. 
The  back  end  usually  has  a  longer  seat  than 
the  front. 

These  boats  may  vary  in  size  from  a 
small  canoe  in  which  only  one  or  two  per- 
sons can  ride,  to  a  large  boat  intended  for 


By  Canoe  and  Bullock  Cart         125 

carrying  rice  to  the  mills,  which  will  hold 
several  hundred  baskets  of  grain  and  require 
six  or  eight  men  to  row  it.  A  large  boat 
of  this  description  has  a  kind  of  cabin  built 
at  one  end.  For  this  purpose  a  roof  of 
matting,  oiled  to  make  it  water-tight,  is 
arched  over  from  one  side  to  the  other.  The 
ends  are  closed  in  with  board  walls,  each 
having  a  door  in  the  middle. 

For  the  steersman  there  is  an  armchair, 
sometimes  elaborately  carved,  perched  high 
up  at  one  end.  In  this  he  can  look  out 
over  the  cabin  and  direct  the  rowers  in  the 
front  part  of  the  boat.  Sails  are  used  when 
the  wind  is  right;  and  if  the  boat  is  travel- 
ing near  the  shore,  it  is  usually  poled  along. 
In  small  boats,  leafy  branches  of  trees  are 
frequently  used  as  a  sail,  they  being  held  up 
to  catch  the  wind  while  the  people  in  the 
canoe  have  a  rest  from  paddling.  It  is  re.ally 
surprising  how  rapidly  a  boat  will  go  with 
this  crude  device. 

One  time  I  saw  a  man  who  had  no  canoe 
at  all,  but  who  had  made  himself  a  little 
raft  on  which  to  travel  downstream ;  this  was 
nothing  but  a  few  plantain  tree  stems,  two 


126     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

laid  one  way  and  two  the  other,  on  which 
the  man  sat  happily  under  his  umbrella, 
drifting  swiftly  down  the  flooded  stream. 
Probably  he  had  some  sort  of  paddle  with 
him  so  that  at  his  destination  he  could  draw 
in  shore;  and  there  he  must  have  left  his 
frail   raft  to  drift  away. 

The  boat  we  had  hired  had  no  sort  of 
cabin  or  covering  overhead  at  all,  so  we 
were  out  in  the  weather,  whatever  might 
come. 

Before  starting  out  on  a  trip  with  the 
annual  rice  crop,  or  for  other  important  pur- 
poses, it  is  usual  for  the  boatmen  to  make 
offerings  to  the  spirits  of  the  water,  fearing 
that  if  this  were  not  done,  all  sorts  of  mishaps 
might  befall  them. 

Everything  unpleasant  that  could  occur 
on  a  river  journey  is  said  to  be  the  fault  of 
the  mischievous  spirits.  If  the  men  should 
run  into  a  rock,  though  it  might  be  because 
they  themselves  were  careless,  they  would 
say  it  was  the  fault  of  some  spirit  who  had 
unkindly  put  the  rock  in  their  way.  The 
boatmen  might  forget  to  fasten  the  boat  or 
an   oar   securely;    and    should    any    accident 


By  Canoe  and  Bullock  Cart         127 

happen  as  a  result,  that  too  would  be  the 
fault  of  the  spirits,  but  never  of  themselves. 

So  they  think  it  just  as  well  to  try  to 
make  the  spirits  happy,  in  the  hope  that  no 
trouble  will  arise.  I  am  sure  they  would 
do  better  if  they  were  more  careful,  and  so 
kept  freer  from  accidents;  but  that  is  not 
their  way. 

It  does  not  cost  much  to  make  an  offering 
to  the  spirits;  for  although  a  quantity  of  fruit 
and  cocoanuts  and  other  good  things  are 
piled  up  on  a  tray  and  offered,  the  spirit 
beings  do  not  actually  eat  them,  but  seem 
satisfied  that  all  these  are  brought  together; 
and  then  after  the  ceremony  is  over,  Mr. 
Boat  Owner  and  his  crew  of  men  sit  down 
and  feast  on  the  offerings. 

This  is  what  some  Hindu  shoemakers  I 
knew,  used  to  do.  Once  a  year  they  would 
arrange  their  knives  and  other  tools  in  a  row, 
and  offer  a  quantity  of  cocoanuts  and  fruit 
to  them,  so  that  the  implements  would  work 
well  for  the  next  year,  and  not  slip  and  cut 
them,  or  otherwise  cause  mischief;  and  then 
the  men  would  divide  all  the  offerings  and 
eat  them   themselves. 


128     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

It  being  some  weeks  after  the  commence- 
ment of  the  annual  rainy  season,  the  river 
was  flooded.  The  men  had  hard  work  pad- 
dling the  canoe  along.  To  avoid  the  full 
force  of  the  current,  they  kept  close  to  the 
bank  wherever  possible.  This  meant  that 
sometimes  we  passed  right  in  among  the 
trees,  for  the  lower  bank  had  been  over- 
flowed. Advantage  was  taken  of  this  to  give 
the  rowers  a  little  relief,  by  the  steersman 
often  pushing  against  the  trees  with  a  long, 
spiked  pole,  to  send  the  boat  along. 

Our  hopes  of  a  fine  day  were  soon  ended, 
for  the  clouds  gathered  and  the  rain  poured 
down;  and  there  we  sat  in  that  little  canoe 
the  whole  day  long,  with  the  rain  beating 
down  on  us.  We  tried  umbrellas,  but  the 
water  leaked  through  them.  We  endeavored 
to  remedy  this  by  rubbing  a  candle  along  the 
seams  and  around  the  hole  where  the  stick 
comes  through;  but  after  all,  we  had  to  put 
the  umbrellas  down  because  of  the  canoe 
passing  through  trees  with  low-hanging 
boughs. 

At  last  we  decided  that  there  was  nothing 
else  to  do  but  sit  still  and  get  wet;  and  get 


By  Canoe  and  Bullock  Cart         129 

wet  we  did.  It  was  in  July,  and  therefore 
quite  warm  weather,  yet  by  afternoon  we  felt 
chilled  through  from  having  to  sit  still  in 
that  canoe  all  day,  soaked  to  the  skin. 

To  our  delight  we  came  alongside  a  tim- 
ber-rafting station;  in  one  of  the  huts  on  a 
raft  there  was  a  good  fire,  so  we  sat  down 
on  the  hearth  and  warmed  and  dried  our- 
selves. This  was  not  the  end  of  the  day's 
journey,  however,  for  we  still  had  a  mile 
or  more  to  complete;  but  in  an  hour  or  so 
we  were  able  to  camp  for  the  night.  In  all 
that  day's  journey  we  had  covered  only  about 
eighteen  miles;  so  canoe  traveling,  against 
a  strong  current,  is  not  very  fast. 

Our  camping  place  was  quite  comfort- 
able, at  least  it  seemed  so  after  having  been 
cramped  up  in  the  little  canoe  all  day.  We 
had  reached  the  village  of  Kawkayet,  which 
is  about  a  mile  above  where  the  mission  sta- 
tion was  finally  built  at  Kamamaung;  there 
we  found  a  fine  zayat,  or  rest  house,  in  the 
monastery  inclosure. 

These  zayats   are  usually  built  by  pious 
persons  for  the  benefit  of  the  monks,  as  well 
as  for  visitors  and  travelers;  we  were  glad 
9 


By  Canoe  and  Bullock  Cart         131 

indeed  for  the  kindness  of  those  who  had 
built  this  particular  one.  True  enough,  it 
was  only  a  floor  and  a  roof,  with  a  wall 
along  one  side,  but  that  was  enough  to  keep 
the  wind  and  rain  out;  and  down  underneath 
there  was  space  for  us  to  make  a  fire  over 
which  to  dry  our  clothes  and  bedding  and  to 
do  our  cooking. 

For  the  fireplace  we  soon  found  three 
fair-sized  stones  on  which  to  rest  our  earthen 
cooking  pot,  and  firewood  was  available  in 
great  abundance.  It  was  my  task  to  cook, 
while  my  companion.  Elder  G.  A.  Hamil- 
ton, looked  after  the  wet  things,  which  must 
be  dried  before  we  could  start  out  again. 
We  had  to  do  this  before  getting  any  sleep, 
for  everything  we  had  was  soaked. 

Camp  cooking  is  apt  to  be  a  little  rough- 
and-ready;  but  our  keen  appetites  make  up 
for  a  good  deal.  I  fear  the  hungry-looking 
dogs  which  had  been  attracted  by  the  smell 
of  what  was  going  on,  did  not  get  many 
pieces  by  the  time  we  had  finished.  We  had 
the  same  bill  of  fare  twice  every  day  for 
about  three  weeks,  with  the  exception  of  one 
day  when  supplies  ran  out,  and  we  had  to 


132     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

content  ourselves  with  ship  biscuit  and  con- 
densed milk. 

It  was  Friday  afternoon  when  we  reached 
Kawkayet,  so  we  spent  the  Sabbath  there, 
starting  out  again  on  Sunday  morning.  With 
our  camp  cots  fixed  up  in  the  zayat,  we  were 
as  happy  as  could  be. 

This  village  stands  at  the  junction  of  the 
Yonsalin  tributary  with  the  main  Salwin 
River;  and  it  was  along  the  former  that  we 
started  out  early  on  Sunday  morning,  to  con- 
tinue our  journey  upstream.  It  is  not  pos- 
sible to  travel  much  farther  along  the 
Salwin  from  this  point,  for  a  few  miles  up- 
stream there  are  very  big  rapids  over  which 
boats  cannot  travel,  and  one  must  go  a  long 
distance  across  country  in  order  to  avoid 
them,  if  he  wishes  to  travel  on  the  river  far- 
ther up.  Timber  rafts  can  come  down  over 
the  rapids  when  the  river  is  at  its  highest 
point;  but  even  then  it  is  a  dangerous  place. 

I  wish  all  could  see  the  beautiful  ferns 
and  orchids  and  other  plants  that  we  saw  as 
we  journeyed  along.  Here  and  there  the 
whole  river  bank  was  overgrown  with  lovely 
maidenhair  ferns.     Farther  along  there  were 


By  Canoe  and  Bullock  Cart         133 

masses  of  bright-green,  velvety  leaves,  each 
with  five  jet-black  spots  on  it,  much  like  the 
impress  of  one's  finger  tips.  All  along 
stretched  a  fringe  of  forest,  and  it  seemed  as 
if  every  tree  trunk  was  festooned  with  or- 
chids and  creepers.  Occasionally  a  troop  of 
monkeys  swung  through  the  branches;  here 
and  there  a  flock  of  peafowl,  brilliant  of 
plumage,  strutted  about  in  search  of  their 
morning  meal. 

Very  few  dwelling-houses  were  to  be 
seen,  for  the  villagers  seem  to  prefer  to 
screen  themselves  from  the  view  of  passers-by 
on  the  river,  and  do  not  generally  cut  the 
trees  right  on  the  bank.  This  may  be  a  re- 
minder of  the  old  days  when  the  country  was 
unsettled,  and  the  different  tribes  were  con- 
tinually warring  one  against  another. 

Slowly  we  journeyed  on,  the  current 
growing  swifter  the  farther  we  went,  and  our 
progress  slower  as  a  result.  About  ten  or 
twelve  miles  was  all  we  covered  in  the  whole 
day's  rowing.  The  journey  could  hardly  be 
called  tedious,  however,  so  beautiful  was 
everything  around  us.  Each  new  bend  in 
the  river  brought  to  view  a  fresh  stretch  of 


134    Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

cloud-capped  hills,  for  the  river  runs  down  a 
very  narrow  valley;  and  on  every  hand  were 
giant  trees  and  palms  and  plants  in  the 
greatest  profusion.  Sometimes  a  lone  duck 
would  be  startled  into  flight  by  our  coming, 
or  now  and  then  a  small  cloud  of  bright- 
hued  butterflies  winging  by  would  delight 
our  eyes. 

Riding  in  the  canoe  was  not  devoid  of 
excitement  either.  Continually  we  came  to 
places  where  a  snag  of  rock  standing  out 
from  the  bank,  or  a  fallen  tree  behind  which 
the  floating  rubbish  had  accumulated,  was 
holding  up  the  progress  of  the  water,  caus- 
ing miniature  rapids.  Our  boatmen  would 
have  hard  work  to  round  these  awkward 
corners. 

At  times  we  almost  seemed  to  be  slipping 
backward,  so  swift  would  the  eddy  be;  but 
with  their  shouts  of  "  Tek!  tek!  tek!  "  (Row! 
row!  row!)  the  men  would  ply  their  pad- 
dles the  harder,  and  slowly  but  surely  we 
would  get  past  the  obstruction. 

About  midday  we  pulled  into  a  sand  bank 
and  got  out  to  stretch  our  cramped  limbs 
and  eat  our  lunch,  for  the  canoe  was  too  nar- 


By  Canoe  and  Bullock  Cart         135 

row  to  permit  of  our  turning  about  and 
undoing  our  packages  as  we  went  along. 

Evening  saw  us  at  the  village  where  we 
were  to  pass  the  night,  and  this  time  we 
were  fortunate  enough  to  have  a  dak  bun- 
galow to  shelter  us.  These  houses  are  built 
by  the  government,  mainly  for  the  use  of 
the  officials  who  must  travel  over  the  coun- 
try, but  they  can  be  used  also  by  other 
respectable  travelers ;  being  supplied  with 
chairs,  beds,  tables,  and  other  like  conven- 
iences, they  are  very  comfortable  places  in 
which  to  spend  the  night.  Each  house,  ex- 
cept a  few  which  have  no  furniture  in  them 
and  which  are  intended  only  for  halting 
places  during  a  day's  march,  is  in  charge  of 
a  watchman,  who  sees  that  the  place  is  kept 
clean,  and  keeps  lamp  oil  on  hand  for  sale 
to  visitors. 

The  next  morning  we  had  a  look  around 
the  place  near  the  bungalow,  and  found  only 
a  few  poor  huts,  one  being  a  little  shop  in 
which  such  village  necessaries  as  candles, 
coir  string,  and  similar  articles  were  for  sale. 
One  time  the  watchman  from  this  particular 
bungalow  was  cilrried  off  by  a  tiger,  which 


136     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

will  give  you  some  idea  of  how  lonely  a 
place  it  is. 

Still  another  day's  journey  in  the  canoe 
lay  ahead  of  us;  and  the  end  of  this  brought 
us  to  a  point  from  which  a  good  cart  road 
stretches  across  country,  considerably  short- 
ening the  distance;  so  we  paid  off  our  canoe 
men,  and  arranged  for  a  bullock  cart  to 
take  us  on  at  daybreak  next  morning. 

Before  the  first  streaks  of  dawn  we  were 
up,  breakfast  was  cooked  and  eaten,  our  bed- 
ding was  packed,  and  a  start  made;  but  we 
were  not  to  get  very  far  that  day.  The  first 
hindrance  came  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
from  the  bungalow,  where  the  ruts  were  so 
deeply  cut  in  the  road  that  the  hub  on  one 
wheel  jammed  on  the  road  surface. 

Being  at  a  place  where  we  were  going 
uphill,  the  oxen  seemed  unable  to  move  at 
all,  and  there  was  nothing  else  to  be  done 
but  to  roughly  repair  the  rut  and  bodily  lift 
that  side  of  the  cart  out  of  it.  Once  past 
this  difficulty,  everything  seemed  to  go  well 
until  about  four  miles  had  been  covered; 
and  then  we  came  to  an  obstacle  which  made 
it  impossible  to  go  any  farther  that  day.    For 


By  Canoe  and  Bullock  Cart         137 

days  it  had  been  raining  steadily,  with 
scarcely  any  break  at  all,  as  we  had  found 
to  our  discomfort  in  the  canoe;  and  as  a 
result  the  forest  streams  were  rushing  tor- 
rents. The  one  we  had  now  reached  was 
bridged  over,  to  be  sure;  but  so  swollen  was 
the  stream  that  the  water  was  four  feet  deep 
on  top  of  the  bridge,  and  that  was  altogether 
too  much  for  the  oxen  to  pass  through. 

Reluctantly  we  turned  back,  for  the  four 
miles  covered  had  meant  two  or  three  hours 
of  trudging  behind  the  dawdling  bullock 
cart,  and  now  it  was  all  in  vain;  and  who 
could  tell  when  the  rain  would  stop,  or  what 
trouble  we  might  have  next  time  getting  the 
cart  over  the  bad  place  in  the  road  that  had 
already  held  us  up  that  morning?  How- 
ever, the  delay  was  inevitable,  so  back  we 
went  and  once  more  settled  ourselves  in  the 
bungalow,  hoping  that  the  rain  would  slacken 
enough  to  give  us  hope  of  getting  ofif  in  the 
morning;  but  we  were  to  spend  three  whole 
days  in  this  house,  waiting  for  the  weather 
to  change. 

The  bungalow  was  certainly  in  a  beauti- 
ful   place,    for    just    here    the    river    swung 


-'^- 


Chapel,  Kamamaung  Mission 


By  Canoe  and  Bullock  Cart         139 

around  a  sharp  bend;  and  years  of  torren- 
tial rains  had  worn  away  the  banks  till  it 
was  a  broad  stream.  All  around  were  hills; 
while  scattered  rocks  divide  the  water  into 
swirls  and  eddies,  making  the  crossing  by  the 
canoe  ferry  an  exciting  journey.  I  must 
confess,  though,  that  in  time  the  beauty  of 
the  scenery  and  the  excitement  furnished  by 
the  rushing  of  the  flood  seemed  insufficient 
to  make  up  for  the  monotony  of  staying  in 
that  bungalow  while  outside  the  rain  poured 
down  incessantly.  Moreover,  provisions  were 
running  low,  and  a  diet  of  plain  boiled  rice 
for  an  indefinite  period  did  not  seem  any  too 
inviting;  so  it  was  a  great  relief  when  the 
downpour  abated  enough  so  that  by  Friday 
morning  we  could  once  more  make  a  start. 

This  time,  too,  we  stuck  in  that  rut;  but 
having  conquered  it  once,  we  did  not  let  that 
dismay  us;  and  glad  we  were  when  the 
bridge  which  had  been  our  undoing  earlier 
in  the  week,  came  in  sight,  and  we  found 
that  the  water  had  gone  down  so  as  to  be 
no  more  than  knee-deep. 

On  we  trudged,  mile  after  mile,  finding 
new  beauties  in  the  foliage  and  in  the  bright 


140    Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

colors  of  the  butterflies  and  birds.  Presently 
we  came  across  the  fresh  tracks  of  a  deer 
which  had  passed  for  a  mile  or  more  down 
the  road.  Poor  thing!  there  were  other 
tracks  there  too.  Evidently  a  tiger  had  fol- 
lowed it.  Both  trails  turned  off  into  the 
jungle,  and  we  saw  no  more  of  either;  but 
this  was  just  a  little  sign  of  the  daily  trage- 
dies that  take  place  in  the  depths  of  the 
forest. 

Ten  miles  or  so  along  we  made  our  first 
halt,  an  unfurnished  bungalow  being  here  for 
the  convenience  of  travelers, —  just  a  little 
clearing  in  the  forest  and  a  tiny  mat-walled 
house,  with  a  gurgling  brook  near  by,  but 
it  seemed  more  beautiful  to  us  than  the  finest 
hotel  could  have  been. 

As  fifteen  miles  still  remained  before  we 
could  camp  for  the  night,  we  had  not  long 
to  spend  over  breakfast,  but  hurried  on.  Ox- 
carts are  terribly  slow  conveyances,  accord- 
ing to  our  Western  notions,  making  about 
two  miles  an  hour  on  an  average,  and  a  total 
of  ten  miles  a  day  on  a  long  trip.  This  trip 
we  were  making  was  just  twenty-five  miles 
in  all,  and  it  is  usual  to  make  this  distance 


By  Canoe  and  Bullock  Cart         141 

all  in  one  day;  but  if  we  had  tried  to  over- 
hurry  the  bullocks,  they  would  have  been 
too  tired  to  make  such  a  long  run. 

Kway  Thee  Kyaung  (Dead  Dog  Creek) 
was  the  name  of  one  stream  we  had  to 
pass,  and  a  name  not  very  suggestive  of 
civilization  either.  In  fact,  the  road  was 
deserted;  for  apart  from  a  cluster  of  houses 
belonging  to  the  men  whose  business  it  is  to 
repair  the  road,  we  passed  hardly  half  a 
dozen  huts  in  the  twenty-five  miles.  For  a 
companion  we  had  a  Chinaman,  who  was 
very  glad  of  permission  to  walk  with  us,  as 
he  had  the  journey  to  make,  but  because  of 
the  reputation  the  district  has  for  tigers,  was 
afraid  to  go  alone. 

The  tiger  reputation  is  not  unmerited 
either,  for  one  was  shot  within  a  mile  or  so 
of  the  mission  bungalow  at  Kamamaung, 
and  another  mauled  the  man  who  was  get- 
ting logs  not  far  away. 

The  village  people  catch  such  animals  in 
traps,  or  in  pits  at  the  bottom  of  which  sharp 
palings  are  fixed.  Leopards  also  are  han- 
dled in  this  way.  Only  once  do  I  remember 
receiving  definite  news  that  a  man  had  been 


142     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

killed  and  eaten  by  one  of  these  animals;  and 
that  was  some  ten  miles  from  a  village  where 
I  was  canvassing,  and  on  a  road  over  which 
I  had  once  been.  Not  infrequently  calves 
and  other  small  animals  are  carried  off. 

The  approach  of  dusk  saw  us  at  the  end 
of  the  road;  and  here,  having  paid  off  our 
cartmen,  we  took  the  canoe  ferry  across  the 
stream,  to  camp  again  in  a  dak  bungalow 
for  the  night.  Only  nine  miles  remained 
to  be  completed  before  our  destination 
should  be  reached;  and  this  short  distance 
was  covered  in  a  morning's  ride  in  another 
cart.  Thus  it  had  taken  us  about  nine  days 
to  cover  some  seventy  miles  since  we  had 
left  the  steam  launch.  In  the  dry  season  the 
journey  can  be  made  in  two  or  two  and  a 
half  days  by  cart;  but  the  boat  journey  is 
slow  for  a  good  part  of  the  year,  either  be- 
cause the  river  is  in  flood  and  the  current 
swift,  or  because  the  river  is  low  and  prog- 
ress is  hindered  by  rocks  and  gravel  banks. 

Our  return  journey  was  made  much  more 
quickly  and  conveniently,  for  we  were  for- 
tunate enough  to  secure  passage  in  a  boat 
that  was  carrying  wolfram  ore  down  to  the 


By  Canoe  and  Bullock  Cart         143 

town,  and  in  this  way  we  easily  covered  in 
two  days  what  had  taken  us  nine  days  to 
accomplish  going  up. 

This  ore  had  come  over  the  hills  on  the 
backs  of  elephants,  the  caravan  route  coming 
in  at  this  point  from  Siam.  It  was  just 
another  illustration  to  us  of  how  men  have 
reached  out  to  the  lonely  places  of  the  earth 
in  search  of  the  riches  that  perish.  Should 
we  not  then  be  ready  to  travel  to  the  same 
parts,  and  even  farther,  that  men  may  re- 
ceive from  us  the  imperishable  riches  of  the 
gospel  of  Jesus  Christ? 

Our  visit  at  that  time  was  not  without 
results,  for  through  it  was  secured  ultimately 
a  grant  of  considerable  land  on  which,  with 
some  adjacent  land  that  was  purchased,  the 
Kamamaung  station  is  now  built;  and  in 
"  the  little  brown  church  in  the  woods,"  built 
close  by  an  old  ruined  pagoda,  a  happy 
throng  of  boys  and  girls  meet  daily  to  praise 
their  Saviour  and  to  learn  more  of  His  ways. 


^  - 


WITH    MA    DWA   AT   THE 
SCHOOLHOUSE 

Pa  Khay  —  Eating  Rice  Balls  —  Cooking  in  Mud  Pots 
—  Juicy  Mangoes  —  The  Sensitive  Plant 

Ma  Dwa,  as  she  sits  on  the  ground  with 
the  bamboo  tray  in  her  hands,  is  very  busy 
preparing  the  rice  for  the  school  children's 
breakfast;  but  I  am  sure  she  will  be  glad 
to  stop  and  tell  us  something  about  her  work. 

Thump,  thump,  thump,  goes  the  heavy 
beam  with  which  the  paddy  is  first  beaten 
in  order  to  make  it  easier  to  remove  the 
husk.  You  can  see  it  all  ready  to  fall  with 
another  heavy  thump.  There  it  is,  behind 
the  post  of  the  house,  with  the  round  wooden 
pin  which  falls  on  the  rice  in  the  hole  be- 
low, half  hidden. 

I  think  it  is  little  Pa  Khay,  standing  there 
smiling,  with  his  hands  resting  on  the  two 
uprights,  who  is  working  the  beam  this 
morning.  When  he  steps  onto  his  end  of  it, 
up  comes  the  other  end  quite  high  in  the  air; 
and  then  he  steps  ofif  again,  and  down  comes 


146     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

the  pin,  right  into  the  hole,  crushing  the 
grain  that  has  been  thrown  into  it.  Pa  Khay 
has  been  in  the  school  at  Kamamaung  for 
about  a  year,  and  is  getting  on  very  well 
indeed. 

His  parents  and  relatives  had  taught  him 
to  fear  and  worship  evil  spirits;  and  when 
he  first  came  to  school,  he  was  smoking  a 
nasty  tobacco  pipe.  Think  of  a  boy  as  small 
as  Pa  Khay  smoking!  Yet  probably  his 
mother  taught  him  to  smoke  when  he  was 
just  a  tiny  baby  in  her  arms.  He  has  learned 
better  now,  and  does  not  smoke  any  more. 
And  instead  of  wanting  to  make  offerings 
to  the  evil  spirits,  he  likes  to  go  to  Sabbath 
school,  and  has  his  memory  verse  all  ready 
to  recite  to  the  teacher,  and  knows  his  les- 
son well. 

But  there,  I  am  not  telling  you  much 
about  the  breakfast  rice,  am  I?  Before  the 
husk  is  removed  we  usually  call  the  grain 
paddy;  and  Ma  Kai  keeps  it  stored  in  a  big 
basket.  That  is  a  Burmese  granary.  It  is 
made  of  stout  strips  of  bamboo  strongly 
woven  together  and  then  roughly  plastered 
over  to  fill  up  the  cracks.     Sometimes  these 


With  Ma  Dwa  147 

granaries  are  six  feet  or  more  high,  and  just 
as  much  across;  so  they  hold  a  great  deal  of 
paddy;  and  they  must  needs  be  big  too,  be- 
cause many  of  the  people  in  Burma  use  rice 
as  their  principal  food,  making  relishes  to- 
eat  with  it. 

You  see  those  two  baskets  on  the  ground 
in  front?  The  one  to  the  right  of  Ma  Kai 
is  lying  on  its  side.  Well,  a  village  man 
once  told  me  that  when  they  are  putting 
aside  the  year's  supply  of  rice  for  the  house- 
hold use,  they  measure  out  twelve  basketfuls 
as  each  person's  share.  Isn't  that  a  lot  of 
rice  to  keep  for  one  person?  You  would 
think  they  would  get  tired  of  eating  so  much 
of  it;  but  they  do  not  seem  to.  They  cook 
it  without  salt,  or  sugar,  or  anything  but 
just  water. 

I  have  seen  little  Karen  children  sitting 
on  the  floor  around  a  bowl  of  steaming  hot 
rice,  and  with  their  tiny  fingers  they  would 
first  work  the  rice  into  round  balls,  so  large 
that  you  would  wonder  how  they  could  ever 
eat  them;  then,  laughing  and  chatting,  they 
would  pop  those  rice  balls  into  their  mouths, 
eating  with  as  much  relish  as  we  would  the 


His  First  Day  in  School 

When  Pa  Khay  first  came  to  school,  he  was  smoking  a  nasty 

tobacco    pipe.      He   has    learned    better    now,    and 

does    not    smoke    any    more. 


With  Ma  Dwa  149 

nicest  cake  you  can  think  of.  Alongside  sat 
the  baby  brother,  too  small  to  feed  himself; 
so  sister  would  give  him  a  nice  little  rice 
ball  occasionally,  and  he  was  as  happy  as 
the  rest  of  them. 

Pa  Khay  and  the  other  boys  standing  near 
have  a  great  deal  of  paddy  to  beat,  as  there 
are  about  forty  hungry  little  mouths  to  fill 
at  Kamamaung  school.  As  soon  as  Pa  Khay 
has  finished  one  lot,  it  is  put  into  the  mill  to 
have  the  husks  removed,  while  he  goes  on 
and  beats  another  lot.  When  he  is  tired, 
another  boy  takes  his  place.  A  boy  is  work- 
ing the  mill.  He  is  standing  with  his  back 
toward  us,  just  behind  the  big  pin  in  the 
beam  that  Pa  Khay  is  working  up  and  down. 
In  his  hand  the  boy  is  holding  a  long  han- 
dle which  he  is  pulling  back  and  forth. 
That  makes  one  of  the  flat  stones  in  the  mill 
rub  over  the  other,  removing  the  husk  from 
the  paddy  which  passes  slowly  between  the 
two. 

If  you  look  carefully,  you  will  see  lean- 
ing against  the  bottom  of  the  mill  on  the 
right-hand  side,  the  square  tin  in  which  the 
rice   is  caught  as  it  falls.     Then   Ma  Dwa 


150     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

takes  it  and  cleans  it.  She  puts  it  on  her 
flat  tray  and  deftly  throws  it  up  into  the 
air,  catching  it  again  as  it  comes  down  in  a 
little  shower,  only  to  throw  it  up  again  and 
again  until  the  breeze  has  carried  ofif  the 
bran,  leaving  the  white  rice  all  ready  for 
Ma  Kai.  She  looks  it  over  for  the  last  time 
for  any  grains  not  yet  husked,  and  then  puts 
it  into  the  big  pot  over  the  brightly  crack- 
ling fire. 

Have  you  ever  seen  any  one  cook  in  a 
pot  made  of  mud?  Yet  that  is  what  many 
people  do  in  Burma.  The  potter,  after  shap- 
ing the  vessel,  hardens  the  mud  by  baking 
it  as  tiles  are  made;  and  then  this  makes 
a  very  fine  cooking  vessel.  There  is  a  nicely 
fitting  lid,  which  does  not  get  as  hot  as  a 
metal  lid  would,  so  Ma  Kai  can  easily  lift 
it  when  she  wants  to  stir  the  rice  with  her 
wooden  stick.  The  fireplace  is  a  very  sim- 
ple one,  for  just  a  few  large  stones  or  bricks 
have  been  arranged  to  close  in  three  sides 
of  a  square;  and  the  pot  rests  on  these  while 
the  wood  fire  burns  merrily  below. 

It  is  a  happy  family  of  boys  and  girls 
who  bow  reverently  while  a  blessing  is  asked 


With  Ma  Dwa  151 

upon  the  morning  meal.  Ma  Kai  knows  just 
how  to  make  all  sorts  of  little  relishes  that 
Karen  boys  and  girls  delight  in. 

Sometimes  the  children  gather  herbs;  for 
they  all  seem  to  know  which  leaves  may  be 
eaten  and  which  are  poisonous.  Sometimes 
the  relish  is  nice,  tender,  young  bamboo 
shoots;  or  perhaps  some  clean  fish  caught 
fresh  from  the  mighty  Salwin  River;  or 
grated  cocoanuts,  or  plantains,  or  green  jack 
fruit.     How  good  they  taste! 

I  wish  all  of  you  could  sample  some  of 
the  dishes  that  these  people  make.  Of  course, 
it  would  not  be  nice  for  us  to  eat  all  the 
dishes  they  eat  in  the  villages;  for  in  their 
own  homes  these  boys  and  girls  have  eaten 
frogs  and  monkeys  and  snakes,  and  other  like 
things.  I  have  heard  of  their  even  eating 
wild  cat,  which  was  cooked  with  the  fur 
and  all;  but  the  boys  and  girls  in  our  school 
have  learned  to  try  to  keep  their  bodies 
clean  and  healthy,  as  an  honor  to  the  God 
who  created  them. 

There,  I  almost  forgot  to  tell  you  about 
the  mangoes.  What  a  feast  the  boys  and 
girls  do  have  at  Kamamaung  in  the  mango 


152     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

season!  All  around  the  little  schoolhouse 
are  the  trees,  and  the  breeze  keeps  shaking 
the  fruit  down.  Pat,  pat,  pat,  they  fall  on 
the  ground;  and  Pa  Khay  and  Nau  See  and 
the  other  boys  and  girls  find  it  hard  to  sit 
still  till  lesson  time  is  over,  for  Oo,  the  little 
brown  monkey,  is  out  there  having  all  the 
good  fruit  to  himself. 

Presently  the  bell  rings  and  the  classes 
break  up,  and  away  down  the  steps  go  forty 
pair  of  little  feet,  scurrying  to  see  who 
can  get  to  the  mango  trees  first.  There  are 
enough  mangoes  for  all,  though.  Oo  takes 
his  share  and  scampers  up  the  tree,  and  the 
boys  and  girls  run  here  and  there  after  the 
big  juicy  fruit  which  comes  tumbling  down 
as  the  monkey  shakes  the  branches  in  his 
hurried  flight. 

In  the  morning,  while  some  of  the  boys 
and  girls  are  helping  prepare  breakfast,  oth- 
ers are  out  sweeping  the  schoolhouse  and  the 
compound,  or  cutting  down  the  weeds  which 
grow  up  so  rapidly;  so  in  one  way  or  an- 
other all  help. 

The  weeds  remind  me  of  a  peculiar  plant. 
All  along  the  sides  of  the  paths  we  shall  find 


With  Ma  Dwa  153 

patches  of  it.  Did  you  see  that?  As  soon 
as  I  touched  the  leaf  with  my  foot,  it  began 
to  close  up,  and  now  all  the  leaves  on  the 
stem  are  doing  the  same.  Whenever  it  is 
touched,  even  ever  so  lightly,  the  leaves  close 
up;  so  English  people  call  it  the  sensitive 
plant.  Another  name  for  it  is  "  mimosa." 
Burmese  call  it  hti  ka-yon;  for  I  think  the 
closing  up  of  the  leaves  reminds  them  of 
an  umbrella,  which  is  called  hti  in  their 
language. 

This  plant  is  quite  common  in  Burma 
and  grows  wild,  but  in  some  parts  of  the 
world  people  regard  it  as  very  strange,  and 
keep  small  plants  as  a  curiosity.  There  are 
some  kinds  of  flowers  which  close  up  when 
they  are  touched;  it  seems  that  they  do  this 
in  order  to  catch  insects  which  have  come 
to  them  for  the  honey.  The  petals  of  the 
flower  close  over  the  insect,  and  the  plant 
actually  feeds  on  the  little  prisoners  it  makes 
in  this  way. 

Ma  Dwa  wants  us  to  see  her  little  family 
before  we  go.  Here  is  the  eldest,  Nau  Bley, 
which  means  Miss  Smooth.  Next  to  her  is 
Nau  Too,  or  Miss  Gold;  while  number  three 


1 1;4     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

is  Nau  See,  or  Miss  Little.  Nau  Sey  is  the 
fourth,  and  her  name  means  Miss  Silver; 
while  the  smallest  little  girl  has  the  quaint 
name  of  Nau  Obwe,  or  Miss  Sabbath;  for 


Ma  Dwa's  Family 

she  was  born  after  Ma  Dwa  and  her  hus- 
band, Tha  Myaing,  had  accepted  the  Sab- 
bath truth.  Baby  brother  rejoices  in  the 
name  of  Enoch. 

It  is  not  usual  in  Burma  for  all  to  bear 
the  father's  name  as  a  family  name,  as  we 
do;  but  for  each  one  a  separate  name  is 
chosen,  generally  with  some  definite  mean- 


With  Ma  Dwa  155 

ing,  like  those  mentioned  above.  Among 
the  Buddhist  Burmese  the  first  letters  of  the 
names  are  settled  according  to  the  day  of  the 
week  on  which  the  child  was  born. 

If  you  meet  a  Burman  whose  name  be- 
gins with  a  vowel,  then  you  can  know  that 
he  was  born  on  a  Sunday;  while  if  it  starts 
with  L  or  W,  then  he  must  have  been  a 
Wednesday  baby,  and  born  in  the  morning 
too;  for  had  it  been  the  afternoon  of  that 
day,  his  name  must  begin  with  either  an  R 
or  a  Y. 

In  Karen,  Sau  and  Nau  correspond  to 
our  Mr.  and  Mrs.,  while  in  Burmese  they 
say  Maung  and  Ma  instead.  Many  Karens 
use  Burmese  names. 

Well,  we  must  not  take  any  more  of  Ma 
Dwa's  and  Ma  Kai's  time  this  morning  with 
our  questions,  else  breakfast  will  be  late;  but 
we  will  go  on  to  some  others  of  our  friends, 
and  see  what  they  can  tell  us  about  things 
the  Juniors  in   Burma  do  and  see. 


s 


fii 


STRANGE    BURMESE    WAYS    OF 
HELPING    THE    SICK 

Black  Tortoise  Tied  to  Post  —  Charms  —  Strange 
Medicines  —  Pa  Khay  and  the  Pictures 

"  Shway  Ain,  why  have  you  tied  that 
there?" 

I  had  climbed  up  the  ladder  onto  the 
veranda  of  the  house  of  a  Pwo  Karen  friend; 
and  sitting  on  the  floor  to  chat  with  him,  I 
had  caught  sight  of  a  small  black  tortoise 
with  one  leg  tied  to  a  post  of  the  house.  Of 
course  I  was  curious  to  know  the  reason  for 
this;  for,  as  I  have  told  you,  in  the  villages 
in  parts  of  Burma,  people  eat  such  animals 
as  frogs,  and  perhaps  he  might  be  keeping 
this  tortoise  in  readiness  for  dinner;  but  that 
did  not  prove  to  be  the  case. 

''  Saya'^  (teacher),  replied  the  old  man, 
"  as  long  as  we  have  that  tied  there,  our  baby 
will  not  get  sick." 

I  really  hope  the  baby  never  fell  sick; 
for  with  its  friends  depending  on  such  a  use- 
less remedy,  the  poor  little  thing  would  have 


158     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

had  a  very  unhappy  time;  but  this  idea  that 
Shway  Ain  had  about  the  tortoise  is  just 
like  many  other  ideas  village  people  have. 

If  you  had  been  there,  you  would  cer- 
tainly have  wanted  to  know  more  about  these 
strange  beliefs;  so  you  will  not  be  surprised 
when  I  tell  you  that  I  asked  Shway  Ain  if 
there  was  anything  else  which  he  thought 
the  tortoise  could  do.  This  further  ques- 
tion led  to  my  being  told  about  many  kinds 
of  medicines,  which  I  am  sure  none  of  you 
would  ever  like  to  take. 

I  think  all  of  you  know  that  when  peo- 
ple have  smallpox,  generally  their  skin  is 
left  badly  scarred  by  the  disease;  but  I  was 
told  that  this  would  not  happen  if  the  sick 
person  would  be  careful  to  bathe  in  water 
in  which  just  such  a  little  tortoise  was  swim- 
ming about.  Then,  too,  there  is  one  kind  of 
fever  which  these  village  people  think  can 
be  cured  by  eating  soup  made  from  a  black 
monkey  with  a  white  face.  I  had  often  seen 
these  little  fellows  playing  about  in  the  trees 
in  the  woods,  and  climbing  over  rocks;  but 
I  had  never  thought  that  they  could  be  so 
valuable! 


Helping  the  Sick  159 

As  a  remedy  for  sore  throat,  Shway  Ain 
told  me  I  should  take  some  gall  from  a 
python,  which  is  a  very  large  snake.  He  did 
not  tell  me,  though,  how  I  might  first  catch 
the  snake. 

I  must  confess  that  I  have  never  tested 
any  of  these  strange  medicines  on  myself; 
but  unfortunately  for  themselves,  the  village 
people  often  try  their  own  methods  before 
bringing  the  sick  or  injured  to  the  mission 
dispensaries,  or  other  places  where  proper 
help  can  be  given;  so  it  is  much  harder  to 
assist  them  than  it  would  be  if  they  would 
come  as  soon  as  they  fall  sick  or  get  hurt. 

Cuts  and  other  wounds  are  often  covered 
with  a  filthy  plaster  of  some  sort,  in  order 
to  stop  the  bleeding;  but  often  this  treatment 
does  much  harm,  as  the  wounds  are  made 
dirty,  and  so  fester  and  cause  much  trouble 
and  suffering.  Some  people  have  great  faith 
in  charms.  A  young  man  once  came  to  me 
with  a  badly  cut  arm,  and  to  help  heal  the 
place,  he  had  tied  a  charm  above  the  wound. 

This  thing  in  which  he  put  so  much  faith 
was  just  a  small  piece  of  dirty  paper  on 
which    some    letters    were    written,    and    in 


i6o    Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

which  a  few  cloves  were  wrapped;  and  it 
was  tied  to  the  arm  with  sewing  thread.  I 
tried  hard  to  get  him  to  give  it  to  me  as  a 
curio;  but  while  he  told  me  that  he  him- 
self was  ready  to  give  it,  he  excused  himself 
by  saying  that  he  feared  his  mother  would 
be  angry  if  he  did  so;  so  I  did  not  get  it. 

Other  people  have  charms  tattooed  on 
different  parts  of  their  bodies;  or  the  charm 
may  be  written  on  small  pieces  of  metal 
which  are  put  in  under  the  skin  through  slits 
cut  for  the  purpose.  The  skin  grows  over 
the  charm  in  time,  so  all  that  is  to  be  seen 
is  a  small,  hard  lump  where  the  metal  has 
been  put  in  in  this  way.  Some  believe  that 
such  things  can  protect  them  even  from  bul- 
lets fired  from  a  gun.  There  are  those,  too, 
who,  because  they  believe  that  sickness  is 
caused  by  evil  spirits,  make  offerings  to  them, 
in  the  hope  of  pleasing  them  so  that  they  will 
take  away  the  illness. 

Perhaps  an  altar  of  bamboo  is  built  in 
the  house,  at  which  fruit  or  meat  or  nuts  are 
offered;  or  maybe  a  tiny  boat  is  made,  on 
which  the  offerings  are  placed;  and  then 
after   prayers   to  the   evil   spirits   have   been 


Helping  the  Sick  i6i 

said,  the  boat  is  left  to  float  down  the  river. 

In  the  villages  one  often  meets  the  native 
medicine  sellers  with  their  supplies  of  oils 
and  powders.  Instead  of  bottles  for  the  oils 
they  have  small  skin  bladders  taken  from 
animals,  while  leaves  take  the  place  of  paper 
for  wrapping  up  the  powders. 

The  same  so-called  medicines  are  given 
for  all  sorts  of  widely  differing  complaints; 
and  a  great  deal  seems  to  depend  on  the  care 
with  which  the  patient  uses  the  stuff  that  has 
been  given  him.  Perhaps  it  is  that  he  must 
not  tell  anybody  he  has  got  it;  or  he  must 
take  it  when  nobody  is  watching,  or  when 
the  moon  is  in  the  proper  place;  and  if  it 
should  be  that  it  fails  to  cure  the  disease, 
then  it  can  be  nothing  else  than  that  the 
proper  directions  have  not  been  followed, 
but  never  that  the  medicine  was  not  good. 

Many,  many  people  are  helped  by  the 
little  mission  dispensaries.  The  work  done 
in  those  places,  and  by  missionaries  as  they 
go  through  the  villages,  wins  many  friends 
for  them.  Such  kindnesses  are  rarely  forgot- 
ten; and  in  their  own  way,  perhaps  with  a 
present  of  cocoanuts  or  vegetables,  or  by  do- 


Superstitious  Burmese 

Saya,   as   long  as   we  have   that  charm   tied   there,    our  baby 
will    not   get    sick." 


Helping  the  Sick  163 

ing  some  little  service,  the  people  try  to  show 
their  gratitude. 

I  often  think  of  one  home  that  I  used  to 
visit.  The  first  time  I  went  there  the  wife 
was  sick  with  fever;  but  a  little  simple 
treatment  soon  brought  her  relief.  Ever 
afterward  there  was  always  a  warm  welcome 
awaiting  me,  and  the  simple  village  hospital- 
ity would  be  shown.  They  were  poor  peo- 
ple who  had  not  much  of  this  world's  goods, 
but  just  a  drink  of  cool  water  is  a  great 
blessing  when  one  has  tramped  for  miles 
across  the  rice  fields.  "  Will  yoii  drink 
water,  saya?  "  the  woman  would  always  ask 
me;  and  receiving  assent,  away  she  would  go 
and  get  the  fancy  glass  decanter,  reserved  for 
special  occasions;  and  after  thoroughly  rins- 
ing it,  she  would  fill  it  with  water,  carefully 
straining  it  through  a  handkerchief.  The 
handkerchief  was  always  brought  from  the 
inside  room,  folded  up,  so  one  was  encour- 
aged to  hope  that  it  was  kept  for  this  special 
use;  but  I  am  not  sure  that  it  was.  At  any 
rate,  my  humble  friend  was  doing  the  best 
for  me  that  she  knew  how,  and  I  appreciated 
her  willingness. 


164     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

It  was  through  the  dispensary  work  that 
Pa  Khay  first  came  to  the  school  at  Kama- 
maung.  He  had  been  sick  for  some  time,  so 
his  mother  brought  him  to  the  dispensary 
to  see  what  could  be  done  for  him.  While 
he  was  waiting  his  turn  to  be  attended  to, 
he  lay  down  on  the  floor  to  pass  the  time 
studying  the  gospel  pictures  hanging  on  the 
walls.  Somehow  he  did  not  seem  satisfied 
with  what  he  found;  and  when  he  was  asked 
what  he  wanted,  he  said  he  wanted  to  see 
Adam  and  Eve. 

We  were  surprised,  for  none  of  the  mission 
workers  remembered  having  seen  the  boy 
before;  but  Pa  Khay  soon  told  them  all 
about  himself.  He  lived  in  a  village  in 
which  a  lecture  had  been  given  one  night 
a  year  or  more  before,  and  at  which  a  Sab- 
bath school  picture  roll  was  shown  and  ex- 
plained. Although  he  was  just  a  little  hea- 
then village  boy,  he  remembered  what  had 
been  said  and  shown  concerning  the  garden 
of  Eden;  and  how,  because  they  had  dis- 
obeyed God,  Adam  and  Eve  had  been  driven 
out,  the  gate  being  guarded  by  the  angel 
with   the  flaming  sword. 


Helping  the  Sick  165 

Of  course,  the  pictures  of  Adam  and  Eve 
were  again  shown  to  him,  as  also  many  oth- 
ers; and  he  was  told  that  if  he  came  to  school 
he  would  learn  much  more  about  them,  and 
see  still  other  pictures.  Pa  Khay  wanted  to 
start  in  school  at  once,  but  his  mother  was 
not  willing;  for  little  village  boys  are  ex- 
pected to  look  after  the  oxen  and  the  buffa- 
loes, and  to  scare  the  birds  off  the  rice  crops, 
and  do  many  other  chores.  After  some  time 
he  fell  sick  again,  and  his  mother  thought 
that  it  would  be  a  good  thing  to  leave  him 
in  school,  so  that  he  could  be  near  the  dis- 
pensary; and  there  he  is  now,  studying  hard, 
and  learning  of  the  new  earth,  where,  if  he 
trusts  in  Jesus  as  his  Saviour,  he  will  meet 
the  real  Adam  and  Eve,  and  many  others  of 
whom  he  first  learned  from  the  lecture  and 
the  pictures. 


.tJ       T3 


^         ^ 


:r: 


BUILDING    A    BAMBOO    HOUSE 

Giant    Bamboos  —  Tying   a   House   Together  —  Dislike 
of  Hard  Work  —  Fighting  Fire — -One-Story  Houses 

I 

Saw  Ohn  Buint  had  been  in  the  school 
at  Kamamaung  for  about  a  year.  When  he 
returned  home  during  the  holidays,  he  told 
his  friends  that  he  intended  to  become  a 
Christian.  This  made  them  quite  angry,  for 
they  were  animists,  and  thought  that  some 
great  evil  would  happen  to  them  if  he  should 
cease  to  make  offerings  to  the  spirits.  They 
told  him  that  if  he  did  not  change  his  mind, 
they  would  not  help  him  to  go  to  school  any 
more. 

The  young  man  was  quite  determined, 
however,  to  stay  on  and  study  more  about  the 
way  of  salvation,  so  he  went  to  Elder  Hare, 
who  was  in  charge  at  Kamamaung,  and  told 
him  of  his  difficulty.  Could  anything  be 
done  to  help  him  continue  his  education? 
Yes,  a  way  seemed  open. 

Somebody  has  to  go  down  to  the  river 
and  carry  the  water  needed  in  the  school  and 


1 68     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

at  the  missionaries'  house,  and  a  man  was 
being  employed  to  do  this  work,  as  well  as 
to  chop  the  firewood.  Ohn  Buint  was  told 
that  he  could  have  this  work  if  he  would  do 
it,  and  that  his  wages  would  be  enough  to 
keep  him  in  school. 

Now,  I  should  not  like  to  say  that  the 
village  people  are  lazy,  for  they  do  some- 
times work  very  hard  indeed;  but  many 
times  it  is  only  because  they  know  that  they 
would  stay  hungry  if  they  remained  idle  all 
the  time,  that  they  do  any  work  at  all;  but 
any  idea  of  doing  work  just  to  get  an  edu- 
cation would  be  quite  out  of  the  question. 
Generally  they  do  just  about  enough  work 
to  provide  themselves  with  rice  and  a  few 
other  necessities,  and  then  enjoy  themselves 
taking  life  easy  the  rest  of  the  time.  They 
can  drop  ofT  to  sleep  on  a  hard  floor,  and 
with  just  a  large  stone  or  a  piece  of  bamboo 
for  a  pillow,  quicker  than  any  one  else  I 
have  ever  seen.  Our  young  friend,  though, 
was  inspired  with  the  ambition  to  study,  and 
gladly  took  up  the  offered  work;  and  he  is 
there  now,  working  hard  to  keep  himself 
in  school. 


Building  a  Bamboo  House  169 

The  time  came  for  the  next  holidays, 
and  the  question  arose  as  to  whether  he 
should  go  home  to  his  friends  again;  but 
something  else  suggested  itself.  Ohn  Buint 
must  have  new  clothes  and  other  supplies, 
and  so  he  was  offered  work  on  the  new  build- 
ing which  was  to  be  erected;  and  this  offer 
too  was  quickly  accepted. 

Building  work  in  Burma  is  often  very 
different  from  what  is  seen  in  many  other 
countries.  They  split  up  bamboos  in  order 
to  make  the  matting  for  the  walls.  Some- 
times the  whole  house  is  made  of  bamboo; 
for  there  are  various  kinds  of  this  valuable 
plant,  which  are  used  for  different  parts  of 
the  building.  Bamboo  is  just  like  a  giant 
grass  plant. 

As  I  told  you  in  the  story  about  Aung 
Baw's  house,  some  bamboos  grow  to  be  seven 
or  eight  inches  thick.  These  make  very  good 
posts  and  beams  for  houses.  Smaller  ones 
are  put  up  to  make  the  walls,  as  also  the 
flooring.  Shingles  for  the  roof  can  be  made 
by  crushing  short  lengths  of  bamboo  flat. 

Even  nails  are  not  necessary  when  build- 
ing a  bamboo  house,  for  short  lengths  of  the 


lyo    Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma  . 

green  bamboo  are  pared  down  into  thin 
strips  about  a  third  of  an  inch  wide;  and 
when  these  are  dampened  they  can  be  used 
for  tying  the  joints  where  the  different  bam- 
boos cross  in  the  framework,  or  have  been 
fitted  one  into  the  other,  and  also  for  tying 
the  shingles  or  leaves  to  the  roof. 

Perhaps,  too,  the  only  tool  that  will  be 
used  is  a  Burmese  dah,  or  long  knife.  With 
it  the  holes  for  the  posts  are  dug  in  the 
ground.  It  also  serves  for  all  the  cutting 
and  jointiog  of  the  bamboos,  and  even  for 
the  paring  of  the  strips  with  which  the  joints 
are  tied.  So  you  see  it  is  possible  to  build 
a  complete  house  with  nothing  but  bamboos 
for  material. 

"  How  about  the  windows,  though?  "  you 
will  be  almost  sure  to  ask.  Well,  the  vil- 
lage people  do  not  have  any  glass  win- 
dows; but  they  are  content  to  have  a  little 
door  in  the  wall  which  they  can  open,  if 
desired,  to  let  in  light  and  air.  Then,  too, 
the  whole  of  the  front  of  a  bamboo  house  is 
made  like  a  big  flap,  so  that  it  can  be  lifted 
up  and  held  open  with  two  stout  sticks.  In 
fact,  this  is  frequently  all  there  is  in  the  way 


Building  a  Bamboo  House  171 

of  a  door;  and  at  night  the  flap  is  let  down 
and  fastened  on  the  inside,  so  as  to  keep 
out  animals. 

The  school  building  at  Kamamaung 
which  Ohn  Buint  helped  to  erect  has  a 
wooden  frame  and  floor.  This  was  secured 
by  buying  an  old  house  somewhere  across 
the  river.  After  it  was  purchased  it  was 
pulled  down,  and  the  wood  carted  to  the 
river,  where  it  was  tied  together  to  form  a 
rough  raft;  and  then  the  whole  was  towed 
across  the  stream  behind  the  little  mission 
launch. 

After  building  the  house,  a  well  was  also 
dug,  and  a  good  brick  lining  put  in.  Now 
in  the  rainy  season  when  the  river  is  muddy, 
there  is  no  trouble  about  getting  good  water 
for  household  use.  The  bricks  for  this  work 
were  all  sorted  out  from  a  broken-down 
building  which  was  on  the  land  before  the 
mission  bought  it.  Thus  the  well  cost  very 
little  money. 

If  you  had  to  live  in  a  bamboo  house 
in  a  cold  country,  I  fear  you  would  find  it 
very  drafty;  but  in  a  warm  country  it  is 
really    an    advantage    to   have    the    walls    of 


172     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

bamboo,  for  they  let  in  plenty  of  air,  and 
so  keep  the  house  cool.  In  the  middle  of 
the  dry  season,  though,  that  is,  during  De- 
cember, January,  and  February,  it  is  fre- 
quently quite  cool  in  the  early  hours  of  the 
morning,  and  one  feels  glad  to  nestle  down 
into  a  good  blanket. 

The  villagers  do  not  usually  have  much 
of  that  kind  of  comfort,  however,  so  they 
huddle  up  in  what  they  do  have  until  the 
raw  morning  air  makes  them  feel  too  cold 
to  sleep.  Perhaps  they  will  then  go  out  and 
build  a  fire  of  bamboo  leaves  and  other 
rubbish  of  that  sort,  and  sit  around  it  till 
daylight.  Often  a  whole  tree  trunk  will  be 
dragged  to  the  place  where  the  fire  is  wanted, 
and  this  is  set  afire  each  time  warmth  is  re- 
quired, until  it  is  all  burned  away.  It  is 
not  the  easiest  way  to  light  a  fire;  but  then, 
it  would  mean  much  work  at  the  beginning 
to  chop  it  up  into  sticks.  It  seems  just  born 
in  a-  Burmese  villager  to  try  to  avoid  hard 
work,  even  though  this  may  mean  a  great 
deal  more  trouble  for  him  in  the  end. 

Talking  about  a  fire  and  houses  reminds 
me   of   the    arrangements    the    people    often 


Building  a  Bamboo  House  173 

make  in  case  a  house  should  catch  fire. 
Where  so  many  houses  are  built  of  material 
like  bamboo,  which  burns  very  readily,  you 
can  see  how  a  fire  might  soon  spread  and 
destroy  a  whole  village,  if  it  were  not 
promptly  checked. 

In  front  of  each  house  two  long  bam- 
boos are  kept,  one  with  a  hook  at  the  end 
of  it,  and  the  other  with  a  fairly  broad  sheet 
of  tin,  perhaps  cut  from  an  old  kerosene  oil 
can,  fixed  to  it,  making  it  look  very  much 
like  a  long-handled  paddle.  If  a  roof  takes 
fire,  the  paddle-like  affair  is  used  to  beat  the 
flames  out;  but  if  the  fire  has  gone  too  far, 
then  the  long-handled  hook  is  used  to  tear 
down  the  roof  rapidly,  or  the  whole  house 
if  that  is  deemed  necessary. 

Once  there  was  a  fire  not  far  from  where 
we  were  living.  A  large  house  and  timber 
yard  were  in  flames.  Near  by  was  a  big 
group  of  bamboo  houses,  which  it  was  feared 
would  soon  catch.  In  order  to  avoid  this, 
the  two  or  three  places  nearest  the  fire  were 
pulled  down;  and  being  of  such  flimsy  ma- 
terial, it  was  only  a  few  minutes  before  they 
were  all  down  and  bundled  away,  leaving  a 


174     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

broad  gap  over  which  the  fire  could  not 
pass. 

Sometimes  there  is  a  big  packing  case  on 
round  wooden  wheels,  standing  on  the  front 
veranda  of  a  Burmese  house.  This  is  in- 
tended to  be  ready  to  wheel  away  the  house- 
hold possessions,  should  a  fire  make  it  nec- 
essary. 

An  old-time  Burmese  house  had  always 
just  the  one  floor,  for  the  people  thought  it 
would  not  be  at  all  right  to  have  somebody 
walking  over  their  heads,  as  would  be  the 
case  if  there  were  two  or  more  stories  in  a 
house.  Even  when  traveling  on  the  railway, 
some  of  them  regard  the  upper  sleeping 
berths  as  the  more  honorable;  and  I  have 
had  my  fellow  travelers  urge  me  to  take  the 
upper  bed,  as  they  thought  it  disrespectful 
to  sleep  over  me,  as  they  must  do  if  I  had 
the  lower  berth. 

In  most  of  the  houses  there  is  not  much 
in  the  way  of  furniture,  for  the  people  sit 
and  sleep  on  the  floor.  At  mealtimes  they  sit 
around  a  bowl  of  rice,  with  smaller  dishes 
of  curry  or  some  other  relishes  standing  by, 
and  then  each  helps  himself  to  rice,  perhaps 


Building  a  Bamboo  House  175 

with  his  hand,  putting  it  into  his  own  small 
dish,  and  spooning  the  curry  over  it.  The 
food  is  put  into  the  mouth  with  the  fingers. 
Hanging  up  in  many  houses  is  to  be 
seen  a  cocoanut,  which  is  there  in  honor  of  a 
certain  spirit  whom  a  king  in  ancient  times 
once  ordered  to  be  reverenced  in  this  way. 
There  is  a  little  shrine  too,  in  front  of  which 
flowers  and  leaves  are  offered.  All  this  is 
not  right  according  to  Buddhist  teachings; 
but  it  is  just  one  of  the  customs  which  show 
us  that  the  people  are  not  really  Buddhists 
at  all,  but  animists,  or  worshipers  of  spirits 
which  are  supposed  to  live  in  trees  and  ani- 
mals and  other  things. 


Pii 


CANVASSING   ON   THE    RIVER 
LAUNCHES 

River   Steamers  —  Getting   Subscriptions  —  Government 
Dredges  —  Various  Ways  of  Cooking  Rice 

We  are  to  go  out  canvassing  this  morning. 
Down  at  the  jetty  the  launches  are  ready 
to  start  out  to  their  various  destinations. 
Farther  upstream  are  the  larger  steamers 
that  make  the  journey  to  Mandalay,  a  wreck's 
trip;  and  then  from  that  point  onw^ard  still 
other  boats  continue  the  service,  going  far 
up  into  the  interior  of  Burma,  along  the 
Chindwin  River  or  on  the  upper  reaches  of 
the    Irraw^addy. 

Three  large  boats  carry  hundreds  of  pas- 
sengers, besides  much  cargo.  Some  of  them 
are  like  floating  markets;  for  when  they 
stop  at  the  various  towns  along  the  river,  a 
great  deal  of  trading  is  carried  on  between 
the  villagers  and  the  passengers.  This  morn- 
ing we  are  to  travel  by  one  of  the  smaller 
launches,  which  make  shorter  day  trips  to 
near-by   towns. 


178     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

We  have  brought  a  supply  of  food  and 
drinking  water  with  us,  also  our  bedding  and 
cots,  so  are  ready  for  a  trip  lasting  some 
days.  Maung  Nge  is  used  to  it,  you  see,  for 
he  takes  our  packages  straight  up  to  a  com- 
fortable corner  of  the  deck,  where  we  shall 
not  have  other  passengers  climbing  over  us. 

Except  in  the  little  cabin  up  in  front  of 
the  launch,  where  chairs  are  provided,  the 
passengers  make  themselves  comfortable  on 
the  deck.  For  two  pice  a  little  bamboo  mat 
can  be  hired  from  the  refreshment  seller, 
and  this  is  all  the  average  Burman  needs 
in  the  way  of  equipment  for  a  good  sleep. 
Perhaps  he  may  have  a  small  bundle  with 
him  which  will  serve  as  a  pillow;  but  if  not, 
he  will  get  along  very  well  without  it. 

As  soon  as  the  launch  has  started  and  the 
man  has  checked  over  the  passengers'  tickets, 
we  start  our  canvassing.  Nearly  every  one 
can  read,  yet  nobody  seems  to  have  thought 
to  bring  along  anything  to  read,  so  we  do  not 
have  any  difficulty  in  finding  customers. 

"  See,  friend,  here  is  a  good  paper  that  has 
much  interesting  news  in  it.  If  you  give 
me  your  name  and  address,   I  will  send   it 


On  the  River  Launches  179 

to  you  every  time  it  is  printed,  and  it  will 
cost  you  only  six  annas  a  year.  It  is  printed 
in  Rangoon  four  times  a  year." 

This  is  the  w^ay  we  talk  to  a  Burman 
sitting  alongside. 

"O  my  mother!"  he  exclaims  to  his 
friend  next  him;  "  here  is  a  European  selling 
newspapers  to  us."  The  very  novelty  of  the 
idea  appeals  to  him,  and  the  paper  is  at- 
tractive in  its  appearance;  so  after  a  little 
conversation  with  us,  he  purchases   a  copy. 

Thus  we  go  around  the  boat,  Maung  Nge 
doing  his  share  too,  and  it  is  not  long  before 
a  number  of  papers  have  been  disposed  of; 
for  with  passengers  getting  on  and  off  all 
the  while,  there  are  always  some  new  ones 
to  canvass,  and  we  really  do  not  have  time 
to  find  the  day's  journey  tiring.  One  and 
another,  after  having  read  through  the  pa- 
per, come  and  chat  with  us,  so  that  we 
make  many  friends. 

Of  course,  at  the  different  villages  along 
the  river  there  are  views  of  interest  all  the 
while.  Just  now  we  are  traveling  through  a 
canal  which  the  government  is  widening  so 
as  to  shorten  the  distance  to  Mandalay  for 


i8o    Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

the  large  steamers.  Great  dredges  suck  up 
the  mud  and  pump  it  out  behind  the  banks 
which  have  been  built  up,  where  it  settles 
down  and  enriches  the  soil.  Here  are  some 
of  the  rice  mills  I  have  already  told  you 
about. 

For  a  long  distance  the  water  is  covered 
with  floating  paddy  husk,  which  mixes  with 
the  masses  of  water  hyacinth  that  drift  about. 

Everywhere  the  village  people  seem  to 
have  something  in  the  way  of  eatables  for 
sale.  Sometimes  it  is  bananas,  or  pieces  of 
jack  fruit;  or  it  may  be  they  have  various 
kinds  of  curry  for  sale,  little  packages  of  it 
being  folded  up  in  fresh  leaves.  Then 
there  is  rice  cooked  in  a  variety  of  ways. 
One  method  is  to  mix  the  raw  rice  with 
grated  cocoanut,  and  pour  it  into  a  twelve- 
inch  length  of  thin  bamboo,  in  which  it  is 
cooked  and  sold.  The  buyer  then  splits  oflF 
the  bamboo  casing,  and  finds  the  rice  inside 
with  a  skin  of  pitch  over  it,  much  like  a 
long,   thin  sausage. 

This  delicacy  may  suit  the  Burman  very 
well;  but  you  no  doubt  would  find  it  very 
hard  to  digest,  perhaps  because  it  has  been 


On  the  River  Launches  i8i 

cooked  with  insufficient  water.  Its  flavor, 
though,  is  quite  agreeable. 

Rice  may  be  "popped;"  or  it  may  be 
boiled  and  afterward  made  up  into  thin,  flat 
cakes,  held  together  with  thin  treacle,  and 
perhaps  ornamented  on  the  top  with  stifif 
sugar. 

Another  delicacy  is  sugar  made  from  the 
juice  of  the  palmyra  tree.  When  this  is 
fresh,  it  is  really  very  nice. 

Some  cattle  are  waiting  on  the  bank, 
ready  to  come  on  the  launch.  The  loading 
of  them  is  generally  done  with  much  shout- 
ing. There  is  no  proper  landing  place,  the 
nose  of  the  launch  being  pushed  against 
the  muddy  bank  and  kept  there  till  all  is 
ready  for  starting  again;  but  for  the  benefit 
of  the  animals  an  extra  wide  gangplank  is 
run  out  to  the  shore.  Even  so,  the  oxen  seem 
to  object  to  walking  up  quietly;  so  the  look- 
ers-on must  come  and  lend  their  aid  by  push- 
ing  and   pulling   each   beast   up    in    turn. 

Sometimes  one  will  suddenly  decide  to 
hurry  on  board,  with  the  result  that  the 
man  who  has  been  tugging  at  its  nose  rope,  in 
his  anxiety  to  get  out  of  the  way,   topples 


Cover  of  Our  Burmese  Paper 


On  the  River  Launches  183 

over  backward  into  the  water  with  a  splash, 
amid  the  jeers  and  laughter  of  the  crowd. 
Meanwhile  the  serang,  or  native  captain,  of 
the  launch,  is  growing  excited  at  the  delay, 
and  begins  to  add  to  the  general  uproar  by 
shouting  and  urging  everybody  to  hurry  up. 

When  it  comes  to  landing  the  cattle,  there 
is  far  less  trouble;  for  the  man  in  charge  of 
them  just  gives  each  one  an  encouraging 
push,  with, a  twist  of  the  tail  if  the  push 
does  not  suffice,  and  splash  they  go  into  the 
river,  swimming  ashore  as  best  they  can. 

Now  we  have  arrived  at  the  place  where 
the  launch  stops  for  the  night.  We  are  to 
travel  on  to  another  town  tomorrow,  so  will 
transfer  our  baggage  to  a  different  launch, 
and  there  make  ourselves  comfortable  for 
the  night.  After  having  our  supper,  we  can 
go  ashore  for  a  short  walk  before  retiring  to 
sleep. 

All  down  the  streets  of  this  little  town 
there  are  stalls  set  up  by  night.  It  almost 
seems  as  if  each  person  in  the  place  has  a 
stall  of  some  kind,  trying  to  get  his  neigh- 
bors to  buy  something,  if  only  a  few  roasted 
peanuts  or  some  short  lengths  of  sugar  cane. 


184     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

Over  on  that  little  mound  the  outlines  of 
the  pagoda  can  be  easily  seen,  for  some 
pious  persons  have  provided  an  electric-light 
outfit,  so  that  the  building  is  decorated  with 
strings  of  brilliant  lights.  This  seems  to  be 
the  very  latest  "  fashion  "  in  Burmese  reli- 
gious customs. 

Judging  by  the  sounds  of  music,  there 
must  be  a  performance  going  on.  Such 
amusements  are  almost  always  given  in  the 
open  air  and  at  nighttime. 

Ah,  I  see  that  this  is  a  puppet  show.  A 
rough  staging  about  two  or  three  feet  high 
has  been  built,  with  a  low  background  of 
matting.  Behind  this  screen  the  operators 
are  moving  about,  the  upper  parts  of  their 
bodies  being  more  or  less  hidden  by  a  curtain 
which  hangs  over  the  front  edge  of  the  stage, 
but  stops  short  of  the  floor  by  some  four  feet. 
Each  operator  is  holding  a  gaudily  dressed 
doll  suspended  from  a  number  of  strings,  by 
pulling  which  the  puppet  is  made  to  dance 
and  skip  about,  as  if  it  were  an  actor  going 
through  his  part  in  a  dramatic  performance. 

The  dolls  are  supposed  to  represent  fig- 
ures in  well-known  stories,  which  are  acted 


On  the  River  Launches  181; 

out  in  this  simple  way  time  and  time  again. 
The  audience  sits  on  the  ground  in  front. 
The  people  doze  when  they  feel  tired,  carry 
on  conversations  with  their  friends,  and  occa- 
sionally take  notice  of  what  is  going  on  for 
their  amusement.  The  band  sits  somewhere 
near  the  stage,  playing  music  appropriate 
to  the  part  of  the  story  that  is  being  acted. 
The  young  man  with  the  long  bamboo  clap- 
per seems  to  enjoy  making  a  noise,  and  works 
his  tool,  for  we  cannot  call  it  an  instrument, 
with  great  vigor.  A  high-pitched  flute  sets 
the  real  tune,  which  is  filled  out  by  gongs 
and  drums  tuned  to  a  kind  of  scale.  One 
has  to  acquire  a  taste  for  this  kind  of  music, 
for  I  do  not  think  it  comes  naturally  to  any 
foreigner. 

We  must  get  back  to  the  launch  now,  for 
our  night's  rest  will  be  very  short.  Early  in 
the  morning  the  men  will  begin  firing  the 
boilers  ready  for  the  day's  run,  and  then 
there  will  be  too  much  noise  for  further 
sleep. 

Mosquito  curtains  are  a  necessity  here, 
for  in  such  a  damp  place  as  this  Irrawaddy 
delta,    these    troublesome    little    insects    fly 


1 86     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

around  in  great  numbers.  Once  I  was  in 
a  town  where  they  were  particularly  bad, 
even  ponies  being  sheltered  by  nets  at  night. 

Traveling  around  in  this  way  one  meets 
many  friends,  for  it  never  seems  hard  to 
make  the  acquaintance  of  a  Burman  or  a 
Karen  fellow  passenger.  Different  ones  have 
invited  us  to  visit  them  at  their  homes,  where 
we  were  very  kindly  entertained.  Of  course, 
to  the  missionary  "  making  acquaintance " 
means  the  gaining  of  opportunities  for  telling 
others  of  the  gospel  message. 

When  we  reach  our  destination,  we  must 
carefully  canvass  the  whole  town.  This  will 
take  us  two  or  three  days;  so  for  the  time  of 
our  stay  we  will  live  at  the  dak  bungalow, 
unless  we  meet  some  friend  who  invites  us  to 
his  house.  Up  and  down  each  street  we  go, 
calling  at  every  house  with  our  papers,  and 
by  the  time  the  day  is  over  we  find  that  many 
have  been  disposed  of.  Even  the  Chinese 
pawnbrokers  and  liquor  sellers  readily  buy 
the  Chinese  papers  we  have,  while  men  from 
different  parts  of  India  come  to  us  for  the 
papers  in  their  various  languages.  Although 
it   is   not   possible   for   us   to   do   more   than 


On  the  River  Launches 


187 


carry  on  a  casual  conversation  with  many  of 
those  we  meet,  yet  we  leave  with  all  a  silent 
messenger  giving  them  the  story  in  their 
mother  tongue. 

Up  and  down  the  railway  and  steamer 
routes,  and  in  the  parts  where  these  facilities 
do  not  exist,  our  canvassers  have  gone  and 
still  go;  and  in  this  way  the  work  is  reaching 
out  all  over  the  country. 


Burmese  Aboard  a  Launch 


u.  &u. 


Market  Day  in  Burma 


In  Upper  Burma  it  is  customary  for  each  town  to  hold  a  market, 
or  saygyi,   every   five   days. 


MARKET   DAY 

Buying  Food,  Dresses,  and  Flowers  —  Brass  Wire  Coils 
as  Ornaments  —  Ngapi  —  Lacquer  Ware  —  Beggars 

"  Saya,  tomorrow  will  be  zay  gyi;  what 
am  I  to  buy? "  The  boarding  master  had 
come  for  his  instructions  as  to  the  supplies 
he  was  to  purchase  for  the  feeding  of  the 
school.  Early  in  the  morning  he  would  have 
to  go  down  to  the  market  in  the  bullock  cart, 
and  bring  back  the  rice,  the  onions,  the  gar- 
lic, the  spices,  and  all  the  other  odds  and 
ends  that  go  to  make  up  a  Burman  bill  of 
fare. 

In  Upper  Burma  it  is  customary  for  each 
large  town  to  hold  a  market,  or  zay  gyi,  as 
it  is  called,  every  five  days.  From  all  over 
the  country  the  farmers  come  in  with  their 
produce;  and  from  a  very  early  hour  the 
sound  of  creaking  carts  reminds  us  that  today 
we  must  lay  in  supplies  sufficient  for  the 
week.  In  between  these  special  days  the 
market  places  are  almost,  if  not  quite,  empty 
and  deserted. 


190     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

The  market  is  a  great  place  to  see  the 
people.  Everybody  seems  to  find  some  busi- 
ness to  bring  him  to  the  fair. 

Come  along  to  the  Taung-gyi  bazaar  and 
see  the  sights.  The  man  who  has  just  gone 
by  in  a  motor  car  is  the  saivbwa,  or  native 
ruler,  of  a  near-by  state.  With  his  broad- 
brimmed  straw  hat  flapping  over  his  head, 
and  his  none  too  tidy  clothes,  one  would 
hardly  credit  him  with  being  a  prince;  but 
nevertheless  he  has  extensive  power  in  his 
own  state,  and  is  a  wealthy  man.  His  haw, 
or  palace,  might  seem  to  us  to  be  a  fairly 
substantial  and  somewhat  elaborate  barn; 
but  compared  with  the  surrounding  houses 
it  is  imposing  enough  in  its  way. 

Some  sawbwas  have  very  fine  palaces  on 
quite  modern  lines.  There  are  a  number  of 
these  chiefs  in  the  Shan  States,  each  with  his 
own  realm;  and  many  of  them  are  very  en- 
lightened men,  keen  to  develop  the  resources 
of  their  domains  and  to  improve  the  lot  of 
their  people.  Although  they  are  under  the 
general  control  of  the  British  government, 
within  their  own  states  the  sawbwas  admin- 
ister justice,  often  in  more  of  a  fatherly  way 


Market  Day  191 

than  one  finds  in  British  Burma  to  the  south. 
The  petty  offender,  instead  of  being  shut  up 
in  prison  for  a  few  weeks,  may  find  himself 
triced  up  in  the  market  place  to  receive  in 
public  a  good  sound  beating  with  a  substan- 
tial cane. 

Well,  now,  here  is  the  market  in  this 
fenced-in  inclosure.  What  cartloads  of  cab- 
bages and  potatoes,  what  sacks  of  chilies, 
and  baskets  of  onions  and  garlic!  Here  are 
some  eggs,  perhaps  of  doubtful  age.  In  some 
markets  one  does  not  have  to  worry  about 
the  freshness  of  the  eggs,  as  the  shopman  is 
careful  to  see  to  that,  since  he  can  sell  the 
stale  ones  for  more  than  the  fresh,  his  Chi- 
nese customers  preferring  those  that  we 
would  call  "  bad."  Many  of  the  village 
people  do  not  often  eat  the  eggs  themselves, 
but  leave  them  for  the  birds  to  hatch  out. 
If  ever  any  of  our  friends  bring  us  a  gift 
of  eggs,  we  take  this  into  account,  and  are 
prepared  to  find  eight  out  of  ten  beyond  all 
hope  of  our  using  them.  Our  Karen  servant 
girl  was  quite  surprised  one  time  when, 
after  trying  hard  to  secure  some  eggs,  and  a 
dozen  having  unexpectedly  been  brought  to 


192     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

us,  we  refused  to  eat  nine  of  them,  just  be- 
cause they  were  black  and  evil-smelling 
inside! 

It  is  of  no  use  trying  to  bargain  with 
these  rustics  for  their  produce,  for  they  have 
a  fixed  price  from  which  they  refuse  to  vary. 
A  friend  of  mine  once  had  an  amusing  ex- 
perience with  one  of  them.  She  was  not 
very  well  versed  in  Burmese,  and  so  found  it 
hard  to  catch  what  the  toothless  old  vege- 
table woman,  with  her  mouth  full  of  betel 
nut,  was  mumbling  in  response  to  her  query 
as  to  the  price  of  the  wares.  In  despair  she 
offered  four  annas  for  what  she  wanted, 
thinking  that  a  fair  price.  The  old  woman 
refused,  so  the  offer  was  raised  to  five  annas; 
but  even  this  was  positively  refused,  the  old 
dame  continuing  to  splutter  out  her  own 
price.  Eventually  it  turned  out  that  the  real 
price  asked  was  three  and  a  half  annas;  and 
having  left  her  home  that  day  determined 
to  sell  her  wares  at  that  price,  nothing  could 
induce  the  old  woman  to  accept  anything 
else,  even  though  she  was  offered  more. 

By  evening  all  the  produce  will  have 
been  sold  out,  and  in  its  place  the  farmers 


Market  Day  193 

will  have  bought  the  things  they  need.  Per- 
haps it  is  a  new  dah,  or  a  fresh  plow  point; 
or  maybe  the  time  has  come  to  buy  some  new 
clothes.  What  bargaining  there  will  be  at 
the  cloth  stall,  with  its  piles  of  bright- 
colored  cotton  prints!  What  solemn  discus- 
sions and  careful  deliberation,  as  if  the  fate 
of  nations  hung  on  the  spending  of  four  or 
five   rupees! 

Old  grandfather  will  tell  stories  of  how 
his  mother  used  to  weave  all  the  cloth  they 
needed;  and  the  father  will  have  his  tale  to 
tell  of  the  wonderfully  cheap  silks  he  used 
to  buy  in  Mandalay  when  he  was  the  boh's 
(foreign  gentleman's)  servant.  The  pert 
young  woman  will  toss  her  head  and  tell  the 
kullah  (Indian)  shopkeeper  that  she  saw  far 
finer  cloth  at  the  last  pagoda  festival;  and 
so  they  will  go  on  till  mother,  who  is  the 
real  business  head  of  the  group,  makes  up 
her  mind  what  she  thinks  is  right,  and  buys 
it.  Still,  it  was  very  pleasant  to  have  had  the 
kullah  bring  down  piece  after  piece  so  that 
one  could  admire  the  pretty  colors;  for  the 
pleasure  of  shopping  seems  the  same  the 
world  over. 
13 


International 

Karen  Woman  Wearing  Brass  Ornaments 

Some  women  wear  coils  of  brass  wire  on  their  arms  and 

legs ;  others  have  the  wire  coiled  around  their  necks, 

resulting;  in  a  very  uncomfortable  stretching. 


Market  Day  195 

As  a  nation  the  Burmans  have  wonder- 
ful taste  in  colors,  and  a  crowd  of  holiday 
makers  in  their  best  clothes  make  a  most 
pleasing  picture.  When  Madame  Fashion- 
able goes  out  for  the  day,  she  usually  wears 
an  old  skirt  under  her  bright  new  one,  so 
that  when  she  comes  to  ride  in  the  canoes 
or  the  bullock  cart,  the  best  one  can  be 
slipped  off  and  folded  up  till  the  journey's 
end  is  reached,  when  once  again  she  will 
array  herself  in  all  her  glory,  recombing  her 
long  black  tresses,  adjusting  her  switch  of 
false  hair,  and  touching  up  her  complexion 
with  a  little  sandalwood  paste;  and  all  in 
full  view  of  the  public. 

The  cloth  merchants  in  the  market  will 
sell  yards  and  yards  of  the  pretty  prints,  and 
the  tailors  with  their  machines  will  be  kept 
busy  all  day  long  sewing  up  the  cloth  that 
the  farmers  have  bought. 

As  a  rule,  Burmese  clothing  does  not  take 
much  making,  for  both  men  and  women 
commonly  wear  a  skirt  which  is  little  more 
than  a  yard  and  a  half  of  cloth  with  the  two 
ends  sewed  together.  The  usual  coat,  or 
aingyee,  is  of  very  simple  design  too.     Here 


196     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

in  the  Shan  States  different  styles  of  dress  arc 
to  be  seen,  for  many  men  wear  a  loose,  baggy 
type  of  trousers,  while  some  of  the  women 
too  wear  trousers.  In  contrast  to  the  brilliant 
colors  of  the  Burmese  styles,  these  trousered 
women  wear  black,  the  loose  shirt  as  well  as 
the  trousers  being  of  that  somber  hue. 

There!  do  you  notice  that  woman  over 
there  dressed  in  that  style?  She  is  also 
wearing  the  adornment  many  of  her  tribe 
affect,  which  consists  of  a  coil  of  stout  brass 
wire  wound  round  and  round  each  leg  just 
below  the  knee.  In  some  places  the  women 
wear  similar  coils  on  their  arms;  while  still 
others  have  the  wire  coiled  around  their 
necks,  this  latter  style  resulting  in  what  seems 
to  a  stranger  as  being  a  very  uncomfortable 
stretching  of  the  neck.  Earrings  and  nose 
rings  find  their  wearers  too,  while  finger 
rings,  necklaces,  and  collar  buttons  afford 
other  means  of  personal  adornment.  Women 
in  Burma  do  not  seem  to  favor  the  cumber- 
some silver  foot  and  toe  ornaments  so  com- 
monly seen  in  parts  of  India;  but  in  both 
countries  the  decking  out  of  the  women  in 
jewelry   seems    to   be   a   way  of   storing   up 


Market  Day  197 

wealth ;  for  village  people  have  not  learned 
to  have  full  confidence  in  banks. 

The  market  would  not  be  complete  with- 
out a  plentiful  supply  of  eating  shops;  and 
sure  enough,  here  they  are.  Some  are  mere 
baskets  set  down  by  the  roadside,  around 
which  the  customers  squat  and  eat  their  pur- 
chases; while  others  have  a  little  modern 
spirit  about  them,  being  fixed  up  with  some 
sort  of  table,  furnished  with  bowls  and 
spoons,  and  drinking  glasses  of  thick  green 
glass.  Perhaps  by  way  of  decoration  there 
are  bottles  of  highly  colored  fruit  sirups  set 
out  in  orderly  array. 

Such  strange-looking  foods,  you  will  say. 
Meat  curries  with  an  ominous  tint  sug- 
gestive of  many  chilies;  fish  curries  of  a 
strangely  uninviting  odor;  these  vie  with 
hard-boiled  eggs  as  undertaking  to  form  the 
backbone  of  your  next  meal.  Vegetables 
and  green  fruits  shredded  and  served  with 
spices  to  make  the  various  kinds  of  letho,  a 
form  of  salad;  peanuts,  sugar  cane,  boiled 
rice,  pufifed  rice,  jellies  of  uncertain  constit- 
uency and  uninviting  appearance,  pancakes, 
unleavened  bread,  biscuits,  all  are  in  demand. 


198     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

European  bread  has  its  devotees  too,  and 
is  a  great  delicacy  to  some,  judging  by  the 
eagerness  with  which  these  children  are 
eating  it  with  salt.  Once  I  gave  medicine 
to  a  villager's  little  girl,  and  by  way  of  pay- 
ment he  ofifered  me  a  loaf  brought  from  the 
market  two  days  previously.  I  found  some 
excuse  for  refusing  it,  for  the  sight  of  his 
bringing  it  in  his  grimy  hands,  soiled  and 
unwashed  after  helping  me  with  my  "  pa- 
tient," and  of  his  knocking  the  loaf  on  his 
dirty  coat  sleeve  in  an  endeavor  to  induce 
the  ants  to  surrender  their  possession  of  the 
bread,  convinced  me  that  should  I  take  it, 
the  bread  would  only  be  wasted,  for  I  never 
could  have  found  an  appetite  to  eat  it. 

It  is  no  wonder  there  is  such  a  variety 
of  foods  for  sale,  for  there  are  so  many  dif- 
ferent national  palates  to  cater  to.  If  we 
stand  and  watch,  we  shall  see  Burmans, 
Shans,  Karens,  Taungthus,  and  Chinamen, 
besides  Indians  of  various  races;  and  all  of 
them  seem  to  have  their  peculiar  delicacies. 
For  instance,  one  authority  assures  us  that 
there  are  well-marked  differences  between 
the  various  kinds  of  dogs  that  different  tribes 


Market  Day  199 

will  eat.  One  tribe  is  satisfied  with  any 
dog  so  long  as  it  has  a  black  palate,  while 
another  insists  on  its  coat  being  black  too. 
Others,  however,  are  more  easily  satisfied, 
and  will  eat  any  kind  they  can  get,  just  so  it 
is  dog. 

So  far  as  Burmans  go,  the  foreigner  al- 
ways sums  up  the  national  taste  in  food  by 
the  one  word,  "  ngapi,"  that  evil-smelling 
fish  preparation,  the  name  for  which  is  so 
hard  to  pronounce,  but  the  taste  for  which 
is  still  harder  to  acquire.  We  have  heard 
that  there  are  various  sorts  of  this  article. 
Personally  we  can  testify  that  it  is  all  as 
putrid-smelling  as  anything  could  possibly 
be.  In  general  it  consists  of  fish  packed  with 
salt  and  allowed  to  ferment,  the  result  being 
a  mass  or  a  stiff  paste,  according  to  the 
method  of  preparation. 

Yet,  however  obnoxious  it  may  be  to  our 
foreign  taste,  both  by  reason  of  the  none  too 
hygienic  modes  of  preparation  and  of  its 
vile  smell,  there  is  no  doubt  whatever  that 
to  the  Burman  it  is  a  real  delicacy,  ranking 
with  pumpkin  pie  and  plum  pudding  in  the 
lists  of  national   dishes. 


200     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

We  must  hurry  around  and  see  the  flower 
sellers  with  their  sweet-smelling  wares.  In 
most  markets  there  are  piles  of  jasmine  and 
roses,  picked  ofif  without  any  stalks,  the  for- 
mer being  in  great  demand  for  making 
chains  for  decorating  the  women's  hair,  while 
all  flowers  are  used  for  offerings  at  the 
shrines  and  pagodas.  Here  are  sellers  of 
lacquer  ware,  with  their  trays  and  cups  and 
betel  boxes,  decorated  with  conventional  de- 
signs in  red  and  green.  There  are  the  um- 
brella sellers,  and  there  the  shops  where  are 
earpicks  and  nosepicks  and  nail  cleaners,  and 
the  nippers  for  cutting  betel  nut,  as  also  the 
small  metal  boxes  for  the  lime  and  spices 
which  are  mixed  with  each  quid  of  the  nut. 

Here  are  little  tweezers  for  pulling  out 
one's  beard,  for  Burmans  do  not  shave  their 
chins,  not  having  enough  growth  of  hair  to 
make  that  worth  the  effort;  but  any  stray 
hairs  that  may  appear  are  plucked  out  root 
and  branch.  One  time  on  the  train  I  did 
see  a  fashionable  town  Burman  who  was 
stroking  his  face  with  a  brand-new  safety 
razor;  but  he  reminded  me  of  the  old  story 
of  the  barber  who  told  the  new  young  cus- 


Market  Day         •  201 

tomer  that  he  had  no  time  to  spend  shaving 
egg  shells! 

The  beggars  are  here  also  to  share  in  the 
spoils, —  beggars  with  sham  sores  and  beg- 
gars with  real  ones.  We  must  get  used  to 
the  revolting  sight  of  lepers  and  cripples 
and  deformities,  for  it  seems  as  if  people 
here  do  not  mind  exposing  their  misfortunes 
if  that  will  bring  in  a  steady  income.  One 
grows  rather  deaf  to  the  cries  of  many  of 
the  beggars,  since  coming  across  an  actual 
instance  of  a  beggar  who  brought  a  police 
court  case  against  a  man  for  stealing  fifteen 
hundred  rupees,  "  takings  "  intrusted  to  him 
to  remit  to  the  beggar's  home. 


©  U.  &  U.,  N.  Y. 

A  Common  Sight  in  Burma 
One  sees  long  and  winding  trails   of  creaking  bullock  carts. 


INTO    THE    SHAN    HILLS    BY     ' 
TRAIN    AND    CARAVAN 

Floating  Islands  —  Wealth  Buried  with  the  Dead  in  the 
Lake — Pickled  Tea  —  The  Gospel  in  the  Hills 

Suddenly  the  sound  of  tinkling  bells  was 
heard,  and  away  the  children  ran  to  see  what 
was  passing  by.  Presently  they  came  back, 
all  breathless  from  the  race,  and  with  little 
Naomi,  who  had  outrun  the  others,  crying 
out,  "  It's  all  right,  mamma.  Nobody's 
married." 

You  see  she  was  used  to  the  Indian  wed- 
ding processions  with  the  bands  of  musicians, 
and  had  thought  something  of  that  sort  must 
be  the  cause  of  the  sounds  she  had  just 
heard;  but  she  was  now  up  in  the  Shan 
States,  to  the  north  of  Burma,  where  there 
are  many  things  different  from  what  she  was 
accustomed  to  in  our  home  in  Lucknow. 
The  music  of  the  tinkling  bells  really  came 
from  a  string  of  patient  pack  oxen  which 
were  slowly  plodding  past  us  along  the  dusty 
road. 


204     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

From  the  big  port  of  Rangoon  down  near 
the  seacoast,  the  railway  runs  north  and 
stretches  out  its  iron  arms  in  many  direc- 
tions, gathering  some  of  the  wealth  of  Burma 
to  carry  away  for  the  use  of  the  world,  and 
bringing  in  exchange  the  many  things  that 
other  countries  make  and  Burmans  need. 

Beyond  the  railway,  the  old,  old  times 
and  ways  have  hardly  changed;  one  still  sees 
the  long  and  winding  trails  of  creaking  bul- 
lock carts,  massive  elephants  swinging  along 
in  their  great  strength,  the  slow-moving 
strings  of  patient  pack  oxen,  with  the  cheery 
tinkle,  tinkle,  of  their  bells.  There  are  the 
sturdy  human  carriers,  each  with  his  yoke 
across  his  shoulder,  or  perhaps  his  load  slung 
on  his  back  or  from  his  forehead,  and  on  the 
rivers,  great  canoes  that  are  rowed,  poled, 
or  sailed,  as  the  chance  may  be,  and  even 
rafts  that  lend  their  aid  in  bringing  from 
the  far  interior  the  things  that  men  have 
learned  to  need. 

The  railway  into  the  southern  Shan  States 
has  been  slowly  pushing  on  for  years,  and 
now  reaches  to  Heho,  across  the  valley  from 
Taung-gyi.     Fussy,  noisy,  greasy  motor  cars 


By  Train  and  Caravan  205 

snatch  up  the  passengers  and  the  mails  as 
they  leave  the  train,  and  jostle  the  bullocks 
and  the  ponies  and  the  carts  for  the  first  few 
miles;  but  on  beyond,  day  in,  day  out,  the 
caravans  press  on,  linking  up  the  far-off  bor- 
ders of  China  w^ith  the  outside  world. 

Another  branch  of  the  railway  runs  to 
Martaban,  across  the  river  from  Moulmein, 
and  from  that  point  launches  and  country 
boats  take  up  their  burdens  and  carry  them 
on  to  where  the  pack  animals  start  away  for 
the  trying  journeys  over  the  hills  into  the 
interior  of  Siam.  So  in  other  directions,  too, 
the  ways  are  opened  up  for  the  traveler 
whom  duty  or  pleasure  calls  to  these  far-off 
countries. 

As  we  travel  along  the  road,  we  pass  the 
camping  places,  where  at  night  the  loads  are 
laid  aside,  and  the  tired  animals  rest  their 
weary  limbs  and  browse  in  peace.  A  bright 
fire  is  all  the  light  that  is  needed,  serving 
both  to  cook  the  drivers'  meal  and  to  scare 
away  any  prowling  beasts  of  prey. 

With  the  early  morning  light  the  camp  is 
astir,  and  in  due  time  the  big  panniers  are 
loaded   onto   the   cattle,   or   the   animals   are 


2o6     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

yoked  to  the  carts,  and  another  day's  march 
is  started.  The  bells  of  the  pack  oxen  begin 
their  tinkling  once  again,  as  they  swing  from 
the  frames  fixed  over  the  pack  saddles. 

How  the  wheels  of  the  carts  do  creak! 
To  our  foreign  ears  the  sound,  at  first  espe- 
cially, is  anything  but  pleasant;  but  to  the 
drowsy  driver  dozing  on  his  load,  it  seems 
to  be  a  lullaby,  singing  to  him  that  all  is 
well  and  moving.  All  at  once  the  noise  dies 
down,  and  his  sleep  is  disturbed.  Raising 
one  heavy  eyelid,  he  sees  the  cause.  Another 
cart  has  come  from  the  opposite  direction, 
its  driver  also  is  sleeping;  and  as  both  are  in 
the  center  of  the  road,  the  oxen  in  each 
cart  have  stopped,  and  now  stand  blinking 
at  each  other,  as  if  in  anticipation  of  the 
torrent  of  threats  and  yells  that  is  soon  to 
descend  upon  them. 

Each  man  seizes  a  stick  and  with  it  jabs 
and  pokes  his  animals,  the  guiding  of  which 
consists  of  little  more  than  poking  them. 
With  heads  thrown  high  to  avoid  the  pain- 
ful strain  on  the  nose  ropes,  and  with  tongues 
lolling  out,  the  oxen  pull  and  tug  under  Ithe 
yokes,  as  if  determined  to  go  the  wrong  way 


By  Train  and  Caravan  207 

after  all.  In  due  time,  though,  the  drivers' 
yelling  and  beating  produce  the  desired  re- 
sult, and  the  carts  creak  past  each  other,  one 
going  down  the  bank  on  the  lower  side  of 
the  road,  and  the  other  into  the  drain  on  the 
upper.  Soon  all  is  steady  creaking  again, 
and  the  driver  can  settle  down  for  another 
good  nap. 

Perhaps  the  motor  car  carrying  the  mails 
disturbs  him  next;  and  he  must  be  careful 
this  time  lest  the  shrieking  horn  which  warns 
him  of  its  approach,  and  the  noise  of  the 
machinery,  frighten  his  oxen,  sending  them 
scampering  over  the  side  of  the  road,  maybe 
upsetting  the  cart,  and  delaying  him  with  a 
broken  axle  or  some  other  mishap  of  that 
description.  If  any  accident  like  this  should 
occur,  then  he  and  his  friends  will  have 
to  draw  in  by  the  side  of  the  road,  and 
between   them   repair  the  damage. 

Little  more  than  ten  miles  is  covered  in 
a  day;  so  the  coming  of  the  railway  means 
that  a  journey  that  formerly  took  a  week, 
can  now  be  completed  in  a  few  hours.  On 
beyond,  the  road  stretches  for  some  hundreds 
of  miles,  not  so  well  made  as  nearer  in,  but 


By  Train  and  Caravan  209 

well  enough  for  the  heavy  carts  and  the  cat- 
tle to  pick  their  way  over;  and  we  learn  that 
it  is  some  twenty-four  or  more  "  halts,"  or 
days'  journeys,  to  one  far-ofif  town,  which 
even  then  is  a  long  way  from  the  borderline. 

Off  to  the  south  of  the  caravan  road  in 
the  southern  Shan  States,  not  far  from  where 
the  railway  now  reaches,  is  a  great  lake, 
which  is  very  interesting  by  reason  of  what 
are  called  the  floating  islands.  These  seem 
to  be  great  masses  of  vegetation  all  matted 
and  twisted  together,  that  drift  about  on  the 
surface  of  the  water.  Local  legends  have  it 
that  much  wealth  lies  hidden  in  these  places, 
protected  by  the  spirits  of  the  air,  which 
would  instantly  pounce  on  any  mortal  who 
might  make  bold  enough  to  search  for  the 
treasure. 

It  is  said  to  have  been  a  custom  here  to 
bury  half  of  a  man's  wealth  with  his  body, 
and  as  the  method  of  burying  consists  in  fas- 
tening the  dead  bodies  to  the  bottom  of  the 
lake  with  stakes,  it  is  at  once  easy  to  under- 
stand the  origin  of  the  legends  of  buried 
wealth,  and  why  a  superstitious  people 
should  be  afraid  to  search  for  it. 
14 


2IO    Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

Very  probably,  if  an  attempt  should  be 
made  in  daylight  to  recover  any  of  it,  the 
supposed  spirit  guardians  would  not  exert 
themselves,  as  the  villagers  would  show  their 
resentment  of  the  interference  with  their 
dead  by  driving  off  the  intruders.  As  for 
hunting  for  the  wealth  under  cover  of  dark- 
ness, far  from  venturing  out  in  such  a  lonely 
place  for  any  reward  whatever,  the  average 
Burman  is  almost  too  scared  to  walk  down 
a  village  street  after  dark,  and  must  needs 
sing  aloud  and  clap  his  hands  to  scare  away 
the  powers  of  evil. 

It  would  seem  that  some  bold  spirits 
have  got  the  better  of  their  fears,  for  one 
hears  tales  of  families  which  have  suddenly 
become  wealthy  in  some  mysterious  way. 
One  such  family  that  I  heard  of  explains  its 
good  fortune  in  this  way: 

It  happened  that  one  dark  night  a  poor 
villager  was  crossing  the  lake  in  his  boat, 
when  all  of  a  sudden  another  canoe  came 
alongside  his,  shooting  out  from  behind  one 
of  the  floating  islands,  an  old  withered-up 
woman  being  the  only  occupant  of  it.  She 
earnestly  begged  the  man.  as  an  act  of  char- 


By  Train  and  Caravan  211 

ity,  to  bring  her  a  packet  of  pickled  tea 
from  the  village;  and  although  he  had  only 
a  few  copper  coins  in  the  world,  he  prom- 
ised to  do  so.  Returning  home,  he  was  as 
good  as  his  word,  bringing  the  desired  deli- 
cacy with  him,  and  giving  it  to  the  old 
woman  when  he  met  her  at  the  appointed 
place. 

In  return  for  his  kindness  she  gave  him 
a  basket,  and  when  he  arrived  home,  he 
found  to  his  joy  that  this  basket  contained 
money;  and  though  he,  and  his  family  after 
him,  have  been  taking  money  out  of  it  ever 
since,  it  has  never  emptied,  but  still  con- 
tinues to  supply  their  needs. 

Well,  this  is  the  story  as  it  has  come  to 
me;  but  the  only  thing  about  it  that  I  know 
to  be  true  is,  that  this  particular  family  is 
certainly  very  wealthy.  The  story  they  tell 
of  the  source  of  their  wealth  is  possibly  only 
their  way  of  covering  the  fact  that  some  of 
their  ancestors  ventured  out  onto  the  lake 
and  robbed  the  dead  of  the  riches  buried 
with  them. 

Pickled  tea  will  seem  to  you  such  a 
strange  delicacy  that  I  must  tell  you  some- 


212     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

thing  about  it  before  I  close.  The  green  tea 
leaves  are  taken  and  dried  in  the  sun  for  a 
few  days,  after  which  they  are  steamed,  this 
last  process  removing  some  of  the  tannin 
from  them.  After  this  the  leaves  are  pressed 
down  into  small  brick-lined  pits  and  left  to 
ferment.  Mixed  with  salt,  this  preparation 
is  considered  a  great  delicacy  by  the  people 
of  Burma.  It  is  also  used  in  a  formal  way, 
as  for  instance,  a  small  package  of  pickled 
tea,  dressed  with  oil  and  spices  [lipet,  the 
Burmese  call  it),  is  sent  to  one  whom  it  is 
desired  to  invite  to  some  ceremony.  The 
eating  together  of  pickled  tea  by  the  parents 
of  the  young  couple,  is  the  national  way  of 
ratifying  the  marriage  contract,  the  similar 
chewing  of  betel  nut  being  part  of  the  same 
ceremony. 

The  region  of  the  Shan  Hills  of  Burma 
is  one  of  the  "  corners  of  the  earth  "  to  which 
the  gospel  message  is  to  be  taken,  and  from 
which  redeemed  ones  will  be  gathered  in  the 
day  of  the  harvest.  Even  here  our  canvass- 
ers are  pressing  forward,  taking  with  them 
the  literature  which  warns  men  of  the  im- 
pending crisis.     Too,   students   are   brought 


By  Train  and  Caravan 


213 


into  our  schools,  that  they,  having  learned 
for  themselves,  may  carry  the  good  nev^s 
back  to  their  own  people. 


A  Monastery  in  Burma 

It  is  the  rule  for  every  Buddhist  boy  in  Burma  to  pass  a  short 
time  in  the  monastery,  wearing  the  yellow  robe,  and  receiv- 
ing  special    teaching   in   his    religious    duties. 
(See  page  102) 


IN    CONCLUSION 

A  Map  Study  —  Rangoon  —  Burmans'  Dislike  of  Heavy 
Work  —  Modern  Conveniences  in  Rangoon  —  Schools 

Now  that  we  have  taken  a  peep  at  some 
of  the  people  of  Burma  and  their  lives  and 
homes,  let  us  remember  something  of  the 
country  in  which  they  live.  It  is  often  true 
that  the  country  itself  has  had  much  to  do 
in  making  the  people  what  they  are. 

Just  look  at  the  map  of  Burma,  and  you 
will  see  that  in  the  north  and  west  it  is  joined 
to  India  by  land,  while  on  the  east  it  touches 
China  and  Siam.  Although  that  is  the  case, 
it  is  much  easier  to  enter  Burma  from  the 
sea,  since  high  mountains  shut  it  off  almost 
entirely  on  every  other  side.  Because  of 
this,  it  is  not  possible  to  go  to  Burma  by 
railway  from  any  other  country,  and  nearly 
everybody  who  goes  there  enters  Rangoon, 
the  big  port  near  the  sea  on  one  of  the  many 
mouths  of  the  Irrawaddy.  One  can  enter 
at  Bassein  and  Moulmein  also;  but  not  many 
people  go  that  way,  because  Rangoon  is  so 


2i6     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

many  times  larger  than  the  other  places. 
Ocean  steamers  also  call  at  such  ports  as 
Tavoy,  Mergui,  and  Akyab;  but  each  of 
these  places  is  so  shut  off  from  the  rest  of 
the  country  by  rough  land  that  nobody 
would  think  of  them  as  gates  into  Burma. 

You  can  look  on  the  map  for  all  the 
ports  I  have  mentioned;  and  then  you  must 
try  to  picture  in  your  mind  the  great  car- 
goes of  rice  that  the  steamers  receive  at  Bas- 
sein,  Akyab,  and  Moulmein,  and  also  the  val- 
uable wood  which  is  sent  out  from  the  latter 
place.  Tavoy  and  Mergui  are  the  places 
where  tin  and  wolfram  and  other  valuable 
metals  are  shipped;  while  Rangoon,  the 
greatest  port  of  them  all,  sends  away  vast 
stores  of  rice,  wood,  and  oil,  and  other  kinds 
of  merchandise  too  numerous  to  mention. 

In  a  few  places,  there  are  tracks  over 
the  mountains  from  Siam  and  China,  along 
which  the  caravans  slowly  wend  their  way; 
and  they  are  important,  too,  in  that  they  seem 
to  have  provided  the  way  into  Burma  for  the 
different  tribes  who  now  live  there.  Even 
today  there  are  bands  of  people  constantly 
pressing  over  the  borders  from  China. 


In  Conclusion  217 

It  is  far  more  difficult  to  cross  the  moun- 
tains which  separate  Burma  from  India;  and 
so  we  find  that  the  peoples  of  Burma  are 
more  like  their  neighbors  across  the  Salwin, 
that  is,  the  Siamese  and  Chinese,  than  the 
Indian  races;  and  the  general  appearance  of 
the  people,  as  well  as  their  languages,  differs 
much  from  those  we  find  in  India,  although 
Burma  and  India  are  parts  of  the  same  gov- 
ernment known  as  the  Indian  Empire. 

I  want  you  to  take  careful  notice  of  the 
city  of  Rangoon.  Even  before  the  railway 
was  built,  Rangoon  had  begun  to  be  the  most 
important  place  in  Burma;  for  the  mighty 
Irrawaddy  River  stretches  for  hundreds  of 
miles  north,  right  up  through  the  center  of 
the  country;  and  on  its  broad  and  quiet 
waters  are  borne  numberless  craft,  both  large 
and  small,  bringing  to  the  port  at  its  mouth 
the  treasures  of  the  province.  Now  the  rail- 
way has  come,  it  has  added  to  the  ease  with 
which  one  can  reach  Rangoon  from  any  lo- 
cation inland;  and  see  how  it  has  stolen  in 
behind  both  Moulmein  and  Bassein,  taking 
away  much  of  the  produce  that  used  to  be 
floated  down  to  these  ports  and  shipped  from 


2i8     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

them.  Some  day  it  may  serve  Akyab  the 
same  way. 

If  you  could  come  with  me  from  the  sea, 
up  the  river  to  Rangoon,  I  think  you  might 
be  just  a  little  disappointed.  After  all  I 
have  told  you  about  the  forests  and  the  cara- 
vans, and  the  people  in  their  little  villages, 
you  would  be  expecting  to  see  something  of 
them  right  away;  but  at  first  you  would  see 
nothing  but  a  very  low-lying,  muddy  shore, 
with  a  few  cocoanut  palms. 

Soon  the  tall  chimneys  and  the  big  steel 
reservoirs  of  the  oil  works  would  be  seen; 
and  then  still  farther  up,  over  and  above 
everything  else  would  be  seen  shining  the 
great  golden  pagoda,  the  Shwe  Dagon.  A 
large  amount  of  money  has  been  spent  to 
cover  the  top  of  this  building  with  real 
gold  plates;  and  as  it  is  often  cleaned,  it 
shines  brilliantly  in  the  sunlight.  Other  fa- 
mous pagodas  are  frequently  gilded  over, 
like  the  one  at  Moulmein.  At  that  place  the 
pagoda  is  high  up  on  the  summit  of  the 
ridge  of  hills  which  rise  sharply  behind  the 
town.  At  certain  times  of  the  year  there  is 
generally  a  dense  white  morning  mist  which 


In  Conclusion  219 

completely  hides  the  town;  and  then  as  the 
sun  gets  higher  and  higher,  and  shines  on 
the  golden  building  on  the  hilltop,  the  pa- 
goda seems  like  a  great  golden  bell  floating 
in  the  clouds. 

All  the  way  up  the  river  to  Rangoon 
you  would  have  been  looking  out  for  some 
Burmese  people,  to  see  what  they  look  like; 
but  you  might  get  right  up  to  the  steamer 
wharf,  and  even  have  been  landed  there  for 
some  time,  before  you  would  have  seen  a 
single  Burman,  although  there  might  be 
crowds  of  people  about  all  the  time.  There 
would  be  Indians,  and  Chinamen,  and  Eu- 
ropeans, but  perhaps  not  a  Burman. 

Of  course,  there  are  really  thousands  of 
Burmans  in  Rangoon;  but  they  do  not  gen- 
erally like  such  work  as  is  done  by  the  por- 
ters on  the  wharves,  or  even  by  the  boat- 
men; and  the  sturdy  coolies  from  South  In- 
dia have  come  over  by  the  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands to  Burma  to  do  the  heavy  manual 
work,  while  Mohammedans  from  Chittagong 
in  India  seem  to  do  nearly  all  the  river 
work,  even  running  many  of  the  little  fer- 
ries across  the  rivers  for  miles  inland. 


In  Conclusion  221 

Landed  in  Rangoon,  we  should  find  a 
well-built  and  clean  city;  and  more  and  more 
it  is  becoming  like  the  cities  of  Western 
lands,  with  substantial  buildings,  electric 
lights,  and  street  cars,  and  all  those  conven- 
iences we  are  used  to  in  our  own  countries. 
Out  in  the  western  end  of  the  town  many 
Burmans  would  be  found,  some  even  in  bam- 
boo houses ;  but  because  of  the  danger  of  fire 
from  having  such  flimsy  structures  in  a 
crowded  city,  they  are  gradually  becoming 
less  and  less.  If  a  fire  does  break  out  in  a 
group  of  these  houses,  perhaps  hundreds  will 
be  burned  before  it  can  be  put  out;  and  then 
slowly  the  more  substantial  brick  buildings 
will  take  the  place  of  those  the  fire  has 
destroyed. 

Rangoon  has  a  number  of  fine,  large 
schools,  as  well  as  two  colleges;  so  the  Bur- 
mese boys  who  live  in  the  town  can  go  to 
school,  as  many  of  them  do.  Not  only  do 
they  learn  the  regular  lessons,  but  they  also 
notice  how  other  people  live  and  dress;  grad- 
ually their  own  national  customs  give  way, 
and  it  is  not  always  easy  to  recognize  Bur- 
mans  in  the  smartly  attired  young  men  who 


222     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

are  to  be  seen  riding  their  motor  cycles, 
wearing  helmets,  or  topees,  as  we  call  theni, 
to  protect  their  heads  from  the  sun,  and  with 
all  the  other  things  we  usually  associate  with 
Europeans.  In  their  homes,  too,  these  young 
people  will  be  found  to  have  discarded  many 
of  their  old  ways  of  living;  and  even  though 
the  easy-chairs  and  rockers  we  are  accus- 
tomed to  are  called  "  foreign  seats  "  in  Bur- 
mese, they  have  learned  to  prefer  them  to 
their  own  style  of  squatting  on  the  floor, 
although,  of  course,  many  do  still  sit  down 
in  that  way. 

So  you  see  that  in  Rangoon  it  is  not  easy 
to  find  a  picture  of  true  Burmese  life;  and 
that  is  why  we  have  looked  into  the  homes 
of  our  friends  in  the  villages,  and  have  seen 
how  it  is  that  they  work  and  live;  for  they 
represent  the  great  majority  of  the  native 
peoples  of  Burma. 

It  should  not  be  thought  that  the  people 
of  Burma  are  all  of  one  race;  for  there  are 
many  different  tribes  scattered  about  all  over 
the  country.  In  olden  times  these  tribes  used 
to  war  one  against  another  nearly  all  the 
time;  and  many  are  the  heaps  of  ruins  which 


In  Conclusion  223 

are  pointed  out  to  us  here  and  there  as  being 
all  that  remains  of  some  former  capital. 

These  various  tribes  often  have  peculiar 
customs  which  differ  from  those  of  other 
peoples  of  Burma;  so  you  would  not  find 
things  in  every  part  of  Burma  just  as  I  have 
told  you.  This  makes  the  country  more  in- 
teresting to  the  foreigner,  no  matter  how 
long  he  may  have  lived  in  it;  for  all  the 
time  he  can  be  seeing  something  new.  It 
does  make  the  work  of  the  missionary  harder, 
though;  for  in  order  to  be  able  to  carry  on 
his  work  properly,  he  must  learn  the  lan- 
guage and  the  customs  of  the  people  among 
whom  he  is  to  live.  And  perhaps  after 
studying  a  language  for  years,  he  will  still 
find  thousands  of  people  living  near  him 
who  can  hardly  understand  what  he  says,  for 
they  themselves  have  a  still  different  mother 
tongue. 

There  is,  however,  a  language  which  all 
can  understand  and  in  which  every  servant 
of  Christ  should  continually  seek  to  improve, 
and  that  is  the  language  of  kindly  actions. 
Without  this  no  missionary  can  have  much 
hope  of  success;  for  simple  though  the  vil- 


224     Afoot  and  Afloat  Through  Burma 

lagers  may  be,  experience  has  taught  them 
that  a  man's  works  are  of  more  value  than  his 
words.  So  as  we  come  in  contact  with  them, 
we  must  try  to  learn  their  way  of  doing 
things,  and  their  way  of  thinking,  so  that 
while  we  teach  them  the  way  of  life,  we 
may  not  hurt  their  feelings  and  drive  from 
us  those  whom  we  seek  to  win. 

This  little  tour  through  Burma  has  per- 
haps been  all  too  short;  but  nevertheless  our 
hope  is  that  it  may  serve,  not  only  to  arouse 
in  some  an  interest  in  that  pleasant  land,  but 
also  to  increase  in  others  the  interest  they 
already  have,  that  they  themselves  may  come 
to  its  shores,  and  in  turn  strive  to  win  some 
of  Its  people  for  the  Master. 


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Los  Angeles 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


■BC^iQrURl 

g^     MAR  12  1971 

MARl7lSf4 


Form  L9-Series  4939 


OS    485.       B81W59 


f 


